I know, this is an anachronism... something from the past, the way far gone past. I care not... I shall scribble upon paper until this vexation betwixt my ears goes away... I would say until this knot around my heart subsides, but that shall happen never. I just came to a conclusion... an epiphany, you might say... I discovered something that caused me consternation, and with this feeble assemblage of words on page, I shall attempt to rectify this awful shortcoming...
I have never written you a love letter. I have never written you a letter... small, almost meaningless difference. As you were the author of my resurrection, any letter that I should write to you would be of the loving kind. As I sit here with sunlight streaming in, music wafting around me, I feel as if I am enveloped in a lovely little cocoon, alone with my thoughts, and you wrapped around my heart. I hope that I have the poetry within me to do justice to the task of wringing upon this page the syllables and syntax worthy of your eyes... I wish there were a mechanism that could be employed to download the smiling of my heart directly onto this page... and yet, so much of what fills me at this moment are images, are emotions, are memories with which the written word, or even it's sibling in verbal form, are hopeless, hapless, helpless in correctly conveying...what only my heart can see and say.
You took a sleepwalking, hibernating, barely conscious man and jump started his heart... he lives, he breathes he veritably overflows with life now... seeing how this has happened, the smiles come often, the laughter caroms around inside my head, the head nods without prodding... every thought, from the most fleeting to those knitted together on sleepless nights, taking nearly hours... they all share the same fabric, the same substance, the same material... thoughts of you.
I had read poetry before, I had partaken of love stories, of soaring romantic tales of loves and lovers and people who peopled our past... and yet, when the heart ponders these images, there is a warmth, a rushing rapid of blood coursing through my veins... destination? My heart... My Heart, of course it's there, as you are the origin and source of such things. My laughter cannot ring out any more, lest there be tributes to you, and the laughter that we have shared...
I can't learn anything new, without the hope of sharing it with you. I love a full moon, as we can peer at it together, no matter how far apart we are, and share that image... the images, the moments, the memories which bind my heart to yours... The moments of having shared those smiles, when my eyes devoured you, when your eyes continued to shine and smile upon me. The slight tilt of your head, the eyes blink, and for the first time, I understood what it meant for eyes to smile.
And thank you, My Heart... thank you for all that you mean, and all that you are... I care not for how much effort you expend at being you... because you fully achieve whatever perfection this life affords. Thank you, for your generous nature in sharing those smiles, turning your eyes to me, giving that look to me that says that this moment is all we ever need. As I frame your face with my hands, I kiss the part of your hair, to the forehead, downward over your nose... the breathless "I love you" cannot help but cascade from my lips... because I do...
Walk with me, hand in hand, and let the clock be damned. Empty yourself of your cares, of the things that you saw today, of the quirks and oddities and absurdities that only you seem to catch... but then share them as the unique and vigilant witness to the world that you are... My breath escapes me, mirroring your breath. A love song echoes this "My body aches to breath your breath, your words keep me alive..."
And as time wends its way, as time will, we have possession of time spent together, of things shared, of what we are, that melding of you and me that is the equation that has no other solution under God's watch... it is, thank you, that answer that is only when I am added to you... And you added to me is a constellation of things that I never was when I was alone. And now... having had them... I can never be diminished back to that level of insignificance. I am now... much more, than I ever was before.
If the words were equal to this task, they would never cease. And as my mortal life has limits, so does this humble passage. You... you came to inhabit this heart and soul... a life inhabits this soul, where previously only a pulse and mere organs stumbled around upright. Thank you for reaching down into my heart and flipping the switch. I know not if I have assembled anything of meaning to you, except that I tried to keep up with the murmurings of my heart. This smile, upon my face, and within me, shall not dim for me all of my days.
This is for you, you who bestowed life upon me. I have learned that there is value here, within me, as it somehow found connection with you. For that, eternity knows that my gratitude will inhabit it... I can feel you now, this moment. And let the words ring forth, in this moment until the last, I love you...
My Heart, this is your love letter...
