It was.

Impressionism

Wild and reckless, your eyes stare, untamed
I see the perfection in even your imperfections
They are just as they should be
They speak of Truth, in a language all their own
For in your beauty and your completeness, I saw you
Though you did not see me, I saw you
I know you, though you do not know yourself, nor the world around you
I know you, I know you more than I know myself
I know you by your True Name
I speak it, and you glow with a reality all your own
You stare, and I stare back into your eyes that cannot see
As I breathe upon your surface that is depth
You make me sure of a reality that never existed before you
And a future that you will never know.

Bucket list:

Climb a mountain

Build a house

raft white waters

go camping
surf

sew more
see macchu picchu
Save the top of the Eiffel Tower, London Eye, and Empire State Building until you're in love

celebrate the lantern festival in thailand, and holi in India
hike the grand canyon
learn conversational spanish and french

go to airport, book random ticket anywhere, go
scuba dive the great barrier reef 
slide on a glacier
cartwheel through the snow
play the guitar

paint more
canoe the fjords 
take a train through the highlands
float in the dead sea
walk from Nazareth to Jerusalem
visit Petra
see the Bohdi tree
touch the Ganges
go hunting
go on a safari
visit every continent
get married
have red headed kids
adopt
teach them all the things I wish I'd learned earlier

fill a room to the brim with balloons
bungee jump

kayak with whales
ski the Rockies
own a motor cycle, preferably Triumph
buy a pair a loubitons
See the Louvre, the Tate, a Starry Night
have a snow ball fight
roadtrip across America
grow a garden
raise chickens
touch the gargoyles on Notre Dame
make a difference in patients' lives
get published
teach and lead in my field
see the Sistine Chapel, St. Peter's Basilica, the David
run a B&B when old
Love
never settle

Metamorphosis and Theoretical Physics, or the M theory

When i think about you,

i think about you in the fifth dimension.

In the fifth dimension, our time line is but one branch of the tree,

where every decision creates the possibility

for infinitely many different branches

and thus infinitely many other timelines.

I like to think of myself as a caterpillar,

tracing my way back down this branch

to the branch where things were different,

where i made better decisions,

and somehow, things worked out.

Knowing that that time line exists somewhere in the fifth dimension makes me smile.

i think that would be a good place to build a cocoon.

Yesterday my father cut down a tree growing in my front garden. It had grown from little more than a weed to a massive force, marking the months I was gone from this place with the cracks it was putting into the gutters of my home. So strange how something so still and silent, so seemingly peaceful, can move bricks, can shake foundations, can break homes. Today it lies in pieces, scattered across the lawn, its leaves brittle and lifeless, still and silent. Tomorrow I'll go out and pick up the pieces, keep what's salvageable for fire wood, throw away the rest. No more threats. No more creaking of my gutters when I lie here alone on windy nights. No more birds singing outside my window.

Oh, what false ramblings traverse these tired lips!

Oh, what great numbness permeates these restless hips!

Oh, what sardonic musings play across a mind, unloved.

To crawl into this moment, wrapped tight in its silence, would be such sweet relief.

Yet still, one must go on, as moments do.

They tell me nothing stays in one place forever.

They tell me the only things that moments cradle are memories and forsaken hope.

Oh, to be like the rain, and cling to nothing much longer than the weathered storm's subsidence.

To be like the rain, and fall away in a moment.

The government has allotted us each 257 words per day. It may not seem like much, but it's quite enough once you get the hang of it. "I'm thirsty. May I have a Coca Cola, please?" becomes "Coke?" "How are you doing today?" is easily replaced with a smile and a nod. I haven't heard a preposition, article, or adjective in years. Still, some people use up all their words by mid day, and spend their evenings in silence. Me, I save all mine up. I walk around in silence day and night, not wasting a single syllable if I can help it. I save them all, every one, every day, for when I call you in the afternoons, so we can talk about our days, so I can tell you jokes and hear you laugh. Sometimes I call, and you pick up the phone, but there is only silence. You've used up all your words for today. So I hold the phone close and whisper "I love you" 85 and 2/3 times. I hear you smile, and that is enough.

Sleep well
With untroubled dreams that never wake your slumbering lids
And a ceaseless breathing that never betrays your somnolent lips
Gently, I unplug your ears and take off my eyes
We lie in a silence, void of any wavelength of light or any undercurrent of modernity
Allow you to slip into a meditation unencumbered by your daily burdens
Sacrifice your fears to the pyre of the Sun
For the Moon will have only your musings
Demagnetize my touch and feel nothing but the peace that lies between us
Let there be nothing else between us
As I baptize you in a reconciliation between mind and soul
Your body confesses its faults to mine
And we bathe in a forgiveness all our own
What lies between sleep and waking hours?
Only the sacrament of our tranquility.
Could we remain in this liminal reality forever?
No, but for you, I would.