Happy New Year

Angel,

Though we will not be together when the New Year rings in, my thoughts will be with you as they always are.

May the new year be the best one yet.

I love you.

Come what may.

Me.

Merry Christmas, My Love

My Love,

I cannot be with you on Christmas though my thoughts have not left you. I have imagined what it would mean to celebrate Christmas eve with you and to watch you wake to the magic of Christmas morning..

These thoughts and wishes I hold for myself and I feel selfish.

You are surrounded by loved ones and family - the source of your strength, your ground, your sky, I wish for you to always have them close.

I wish much for you, but above all else, I wish you happiness.

With all my heart, I love you.

Merry Christmas.

Light, Beauty, Time and You

Angel,

In the same way that light bends to your beauty, so too does time warp in your presence. The laws of physics are suspended whenever you are near. Gravity changes, making me lift from the earth though I am filled and feel an undeniable tug.

Being with you and time stops: the world stops spinning, and the universe collapses to just our shared space and imaginings. And in our stolen moments of frozen time an eternity passes and yet goes by too fast.

You change time and physics by holding it all still until the moment of our goodbye.. And then it crashes in, catching up in an instant. My feet return to earth, the world turns, and the great universe continues on its inevitable arc.

I do not know how you do this - I cannot figure it out. It is a power you wield though you may not even be aware of it. I have experienced this phenomenon often enough to know it is real - but it is as surprising now as it was the first time.

You change everything. You are a universe that I am traveling through and I will tumble through your constellations. I will tumble for an eternity - or an instant - I cannot tell which. I will watch you move through this universe and marvel...

Light, beauty, time, and you... You.

Just me.

Night Wanderings...

Angel,

It is late fall and a giant moth has battered against and finally landed on the window, no doubt drawn to the  light spilling out from the cottage. You go to investigate the belly of the creature repulsed and fascinated by it while I clear our dishes from the table and then bend at the fireplace, readying it for later. The night is clear and cold, making the arrival of the moth a surprise.

“I can’t go outside if this thing is still here” you say to me over your shoulder.

“He will be gone before we go out” I promise.

“How? You’re not going to hurt it.” you ask and warn with a single tone.

“Watch” I say as I turn on the laneway lights and pull the curtain. We stand waiting as I whisper the thoughts of the moth in your ear. You bow your head and smile as I make nonsense. When I open the curtain, the moth has flown away, pulled away by some other light.

“Okay – but it’s cold outside – do we have to go out? We could just stay in here where it’s warm….” A teasing wry look to tempt me.

I consider the temptation as look up at the sky through the window. Seeing the slant of moonlight on the cedars resolves me. “Just a quick walk” I say.

“Okay” you say with everything that says it really isn’t okay.

We get dressed for our cold night time adventure – me with enthusiasm, you as if having teeth pulled would be more appealing. Finally I take you by the hand and lead you out the door. It is colder than either of us expected and our breath hangs in the air until it wisps away. You dart me a look with your dark eyes that tells me that this had better be worth it. “Come..” I whisper and pull you down the steps, away from the warmth and comfort of the cottage and into the night.

The frost on the ground crunches beneath our feet as we walk up the lane toward the meadow. “Where are we going?” you ask.

“Just come”  I say as I reach back to clasp your mittened hand. We walk close together in silence. The only sound is our breathing and the frozen crunch of our steps. As we emerge from the tall dark trees and  reach the meadow and it’s tall grasses, I can hear a catch in your breath. Although it is a clear night, the moon is full and silver, swimming through a sky of stars beyond count or even belief. The long grasses of the meadow are covered in frost and looks like a blanket of silver. Moon and stars above, their light caught in the field at our feet, and the whole world simmers in this ghostly light.

I walk ahead, leaving a dark trail for you to follow… my crooked path a tear in the silver blanket.. We walk to the center of the meadow, I turn and wait for you. I watch you pick your way toward me – the moonlight in your hair, your face haloed, frosted waist-high grass and stars on a velvet sky… an angel on this earth… When you reach me you press your cold nose to my cheek and I am filled the scents you carry, our warmth shared and pushing out some of the cold. “Just a little further” I say as I kiss your cheek and feel it warming under my lips. We walk the way hand in hand and in silence – I am too filled to speak..

We press our way to the far end of the meadow and follow a path leads through a small thicket and ends at a rocky point. We step out until we are inches from the water. The lake is a black glass and silent – and a perfect reflection of the sky above. We are suspended in a new world with two moons, one above and one below us – and stars in every direction. We hold on to one another and float in a place where gravity and direction have no meaning. We anchor each other and if not for the other we could tumble forever in any direction.

We stand in the cold, the only sound our own breathing and we marvel at the magic of moonlight and starlight in the seas of black. I can see the universe and wonder shining in your eyes. I have now placed my Angel back among the stars. I cannot speak though you are waiting for me to say something… We stand in silence and marvel until I feel the smallest of shivers in you, bringing me back to earth.

“Let’s get warmed up – I will make coffee while you climb under a blanket by the fire” I tug you back.

You lean in toward me and kiss me with slow passion that tells me that you know what I have seen, a glimpse through my eyes… “Thank you” you whisper..

We turn back toward home with our feet on the ground, our heads in the stars and our hearts lifted above all.

Just me.

A little more time...

http://imgs.xkcd.com/comics/angular_momentum.jpg

Grey December...

Angel, 

We stand on the shore of a great lake on a cold grey day. The sky is so flat that we cannot tell where it meets round belly of the horizon. The wind coming from the lake is cold and heavy with mist. 

Your hair pulled back and almost tame is now becoming curlier and wilder. You smile sadly, bowing your head and mutter something about looking bad. You want to escape to fix it but stay beside me - suffering through your worry. 

I want to tell you that you look wonderful, but you wouldn't believe me and would drop the words like stones. I keep my silence, looking at my feet - but the truth is that you do look wonderful. I want to tell you how I revel in the untamed wildness of your hair. My eyes fall into the tangle and curl, following the patterns and chaos and the way the wind moves it. 

I cannot tell you about your beauty and how in this light I can see every line, freckle, and lash on your face. I can only look and ache. I want to trace your lines with my fingertips and follow the contour of your cheek with my thumb and feel the shared warmth of our skin in this damp cold day. I want to feel the press of your nose to my temple as you kiss my cheek. 

You do not believe your own beauty. I want to show you the way the shape of your face fills me and has settled somewhere deep within me. Your lips have pressed a kiss on my skin that has now settled on my heart. To see the grace of your eyes I have only to close my own. Your beauty is a light that shines bright on this grey day. To me it is a beacon calling from which I cannot turn away. 

So we stand side by side - huddled close and in silence. We stand in the wet and cold on the edge of a great grey void feeling warmth emanating from each other. I cannot speak these thing and have you believe them so I turn to you and pull you close. I will kiss you and hope that you can feel how it is you make me feel. I will kiss you on this beach in the mists and let all the world vanish for a moment. And then I will look into your eyes - your miraculously changeable eyes. We will smile at each other and I will be filled with warmth. 

In my eyes I pray that you can finally see reflected back all the beauty that I see. 

With my eyes...

Just me.

I love you

Angel,

We have had wondrous times and we have been through our hells. I have no doubt that we have more of each ahead of us. Through it all though, there has been one constant - one thing that has not changed.

Wherever we are - wherever we may be going - I want you to be in my orbit and I want to be in yours. For me the reason is simple... I love you.

Love is not a simple or easy thing and I say it to you with all of the weight and lightness, gentleness and passion - and with the gravity that it deserves.

I love you in a way that desperately wants you to be the person that you are... I watch you in awe and wonder. You surprise and amaze me at every turn - in the quietest of times when we are wrapped up and sleep - when you have your head bent to some task or interest - when you smile and seem small - when your back is stiff with eyes flashing... I love you with everything I am and have.

I see you and all I see is the miraculous beauty you - and I ache wanting to be able to show what I see... You are magic and and it spills from your fingertips, trails behind you like a wake, and shines like a light. You move and change the people around you to be better than they were... You make me want to be better than I am.

I am the lucky one for loving you...

Just me.

December Morning Commute

Angel,

This morning is cold, still, and still dark - but the city is waking up. The sounds from the streets - a garbage truck, a taxi waiting, the squeal of steel wheels - ring harder. The lights from coffee shop windows, streetlamps, and passing streetcars spill out harsh into the cold street. In what feels like the early morning, the body's desire is to move slowly - or better yet - to not move at all except to turn in the warm arms and bed of a lover...

Indeed, this is where my mind is as I walk toward the stop to board the streetcar that will carry me toward the tall towers of downtown. I know the feel and scent of the pillow and sheets that I have recently left. I know what it is like for you to be beside me in our bed in the dark early morning and to have the windows slowly brighten as the morning slides to day. I know the scent of you and I know your curls, lines and curves. I can imagine the absolute softness of your cheek, smoothness and arch of your back, and the way your soft breath sounds... I can fall into that place with you and in those moments, I know perfect happiness.

I am carrying these thoughts with me as I travel into the heart of this city and I am barely aware of my surroundings. I have made this trek so many times that I don't think about it - leaving my mind to wander in more pleasant pastures. It isn't until I am walking the halls to my office when I look out the window and notice the dawning sky... The eastern sky over the lake is streaked with blue, purple and pink. It is that magical moment between night and day where you can imagine yourself in either.

The city has started to wake up and this day will be clear and bright. The day pushes out the night and  I am pushed from thoughts of our bed by work. Neither the night nor my thoughts can linger... but unlike the night, I will steal moments to return...

A better man...

To The Lady on the Train,

 

I belong to you in a way that I cannot express.

Looking into your eyes,  I  see reflected a better man than I am.

 

The Man in the Station.

A moment...

There was a moment... a time and a place and a turning and disentangling of limbs. We have come together to find something, the loss of which would change us. After braving fear of not finding that spark, we found and spent it together.

After looking into your eyes and seeing some far away change, a lifting and swing of weight, the spark now an ember, you turn pulling my arm around to cradle you. The press of your back to my chest, our fingers entwined.

I can see the corner of your eye, your cheek, the line of your jaw.. Your head tilted forward... the grace of the back of your neck exposed... ears partially hidden by the soft waves of your hair...

I am a little afraid still - knowing the fragility of our hearts like blown crystal glass... I bend to place a kiss on you shoulder, my nose resting in the hollow where shoulder and neck meet. And here, in this moment, holding you tight,  I want you to feel all that I am feeling... A moment held here with us still and scared... And in that moment a breath and  another turning toward hope.

Our ember glowing between us and the soft sound of your voice...

A morning walk...

We have come through October with it's wild winds and driving rains. October and damp leaves on the ground and startling darkening evenings. We are now well into November and the days shorten toward winter. November changes quickly - some days a flat grey sky devoid of sun and shadows - but today... Today is a bright cold morning. Frost covers the cars and rooftops - my breath hangs in the air before me for a moment. November - the month of contradictions.


Though I walk past trees with their bare limbs like the slender fingers of old women reaching for the sky, the still cold air makes me feel more alive. Children, laden down with coats and backpacks trudge the street to the weight and promise of the schoolyard. In small clumps of 3 or 4 they funnel toward the bridge - companionship or safety in numbers?

My companion on this walk is a steady dog - nose to the ground and tail to the sky. His large black body and long legs, full of curiosity and a touch of mischief - and a gentle soul, make him an incongruity. He is an awkward galoot who will crushingly slide into your lap and easily into your heart - and in a moment you are disarmed and overcome. He seeps in...

Here in this frosted little gully, all is still - there is no wind. The only sounds are the rustling of frozen leaves under his feet. I keep to the paved path, avoiding the muddy ruts that he takes so much delight in. We will walk to the overpass where the ducks have found shelter and enough muddy water in which to swim. The dog is entranced by their movements and strains to get closer. I notice the cars zooming past me, above me - busy and heading to work, no doubt. This allows me to appreciate my slow plodding and the luxury of time with a good friend.

Already the sun is burning the frost to dew and mist. A bell rings in the distance and I can imagine the stragglers of school children running toward doors. My friend and I turn back toward home. We have a warming day full of promise ahead of us...

Seeing you...

Angel,

Whenever I look at you, I see beauty. Even those times when I can see that you feel small or tired or a little beat up... even then, I see your beauty.. The depth in your dark eyes, corners crinkled, your head tilted down.. In the line of your jaw, from your small, perfect ears to your chin.. In the slope of your shoulders and angle of your elbow and the graceful curve of your spine from the back of your neck to your hips... The way your hair frames your face or pulled back and up into a perfectly contained chaos of brown curls...

Today, you look absolutely radiant.  You are brimming with strength and confidence and joy and light. Hair pulled up exposing the line and arc of your neck... Your eyes are smiling - truthfully, all of you is smiling. In these times, when you seem so happy, your beauty shines like a warm sun - it affects everyone around you - it brightens an entire room...

When I see you, the air changes and I find it difficult to think or speak... My heart races... I do believe that light bends to your beauty - everything changes.

I would have you see with my eyes... just so you could know.

Just me.

I would take you - just as you are...

Angel,

Any man would be extremely lucky to have you, to be with you, and have you in his life. I have been very blessed in so many ways to have had you in my life and to get to know you. I wish that I could express the many and profound ways that you have touched my life.

I have been playing out of my league far longer than I ever expected, and have been far luckier than any one man deserves. But this past year or so has been like the very slow pulling off of a band-aide. I could see and feel you drifting further away - and I was powerless to stop it. It would have been like stopping the tide with cupped hands. I know that the tighter I might try to hang on, the more futile my efforts.

I am stuck. I know that I cannot compete. I know that I am not enough. I know that I cannot be the person you want and need - and if I was selfless - I would let you finish pulling the band-aide from my skin. But I can't - I am far too selfish...

I know that I am the man that will accept you - all of you - for exactly the person that you are. I will watch you and marvel. I am the one who can see you at your very best and at your very worst - and every mood and place between - and see beauty in every moment. When I look at you, I see miracles.

Being that man isn't enough though.

I love you with all my heart - but I am far too selfish to be the one to let you go... and so I will wait for the band-aide's final tug...

Just me.

As fall slides to winter...

Angel,

We have turned the corner of autumn and heading toward winter. Last night was cold and clear with a blue-black sky that let the moon and stars be seen. The night feels fresh and clean and as it slides toward the early morning the city is still and quiet. Everyone has settled in and most are sleeping peacefully. I lay awake in my bed, letting the cold breeze drift in over me as my mind wanders...

I imagine you sleeping in your bed, your breath rhythmic, your body still... I wonder about the noises in your house and if they find their way into your dreams. I wonder if you are transported to a time or place that holds magic for you... I wonder if you think of me...  This cold air carries sound far and clear - I hear the forlorn call of a train's whistle. The trains run through the night and their sound is one of the loneliest..

It brings a melancholy mood over me and so wish that you were beside me now. I long for the scent of you filling this room, the rustle of you turning, and the feel of your weight in the bed beside me. I want to turn and find the warm skin of your shoulder and back curled - and your hair across the pillow. I want to listen to the rise and fall of your breathing and it's change as I move closer to you and then have it return as you drift back to sleep again.

I can imagine my arm around your waist and finding our fingers entwined when we wake. Stirring at the same time, untangling our arms and legs to turn over. As the room brightens with the morning, I am able to see your face and the sleepy smile. Making out your freckles, the line of your nose, jaw, brow, shoulders - I trace them first with my eye and then the soft touch of a finger. I long to kiss you but do not so as not to disturb your drifting between sleep and awake - between dreams and the morning... I will move slow and let my thoughts dwell in your curls, the nape of your neck, your bellybutton... I will have you drift here for as long as possible...

Another train whistle drifts in the window and in a minute it comes again. The train is fading away to the north, making its way eventually out of the city. I turn in my bed and look at the pillow where I wish your head lay. I push a dent into the pillow with my hand and remember a different morning...

Just me.

Should I never tell you...

To The Lady on the Train,

 

If I don't tell you that I miss you, do you know it anyway?

If I fail to express the way your beauty moves me, could you still see it from across a crowded room?

If I were to never again tell you that I love you, would you still feel it always?

 

I miss you.

Your beauty takes my breath. 

I will always love you.

 

Come what may.

 

The Man in the Station.

Autumn by the lake

To The Lady on the Train,

The change in the weather, the cooler temperatures, the changing and falling of the leaves - the feel of the air, and the change in the light as the slant of the sun lengthens our shadows - all of these things bring to me a melancholy and longing to both get moving and to settle in.

I can imagine us sitting on a blanket in a field that slopes toward a deep shield lake - rugged shored and dark. The day is cool but brilliant and we are warmed by the sun and another blanket wrapped around our shoulders. We are sitting together wrapped in blankets and I can feel the press of you as you lean against me, my one arm around you and your two hands holding my other hand in your lap.

The wind is high in the trees making them talk in a comforting and lonely whisper. The dark branches - some already bare, some still laden with fading leaves - wave and scrape the blue sky. It is well into autumn and the air smells of earth, rain, and even snow. It is clear here now, but there are darkening clouds in the east with an east wind pushing them toward us. The lake's surface is disturbed and the trees sing louder - it will rain tonight...

Without speaking we both know that we will linger here in the dying sun for as long as we can. The wind stirs the leaves as it stirs something within us. The seasons change and we must change with them, but for now we will cling to the sun, soaking up what we can in hopes that we will remember it through the winter. The warmth of your body against mine and the softness of your hands in mine will hold me here until the wind whips our hair and the first drops of rain send us from this place.

When finally we are forced from the lake to retreat to the warmth and shelter of the cottage, we will rise together. The cool air will fill the space between us as we gather ourselves and belongings. If the rains come hard and sudden, we will run up the hill to the porch hand in hand, laughing at ourselves. We will turn to look at the darkening sky, fast moving clouds, and the now black lake one last time before heading into the warmth and golden light. Cocooned by these wooden floors and walls, we will let the howling winds and wild black night fight it's way to a calm morning.

Here, we will stay until the first snowfall...

The Man in the Station

An Autumn Morning Moment

 

With the official start of Autumn the weather changed as if on queue. Suddenly, the days are shorter, colder, and rainier - the sun does not arc as high, leaving even mid-day shadows stretched before us.


Fall has come and in the grit of this city there are signs of the coming winter that cannot be ignored. In our early weekday morning, those of us who shuffle to meet the downtown streetcar are mingled with the remaining night time underworld dwellers. We are all stopped and our faces turned to the sky. All of us held frozen in a shared moment to follow the fast flight and call of low flying geese.

There is something unearthly, eerie, and primal in their haunting call, and we cannot help but feel the sudden urge that we must now prepare for the winter that will come. We all feel the shared stirring - our signal to hurry and to slow down. The message to take advantage of what warmth and light we have now must be used to full advantage, for it will not last..

A moment we have all stopped but with their passing so passes the memory of this shared experience. As the honking fades we all turn back to our private drudgery - each to our own little worlds.

And I wait for the bright lights of the coming streetcar.

A Tentative Kiss...

Angel,

 

I don't know what it was like for you... I don't know if you felt any rush of blood or tingle of skin. I don't know if there was a desire to linger or the urge to flee.

I wanted to take your hand and entwine your fingers in mine - feel their softness and strength...

I wanted to pull you close and hold you tight to breath you in. I wanted to kiss you and let everything else disappear. ..

For me, within that kiss, I felt those feelings rise. Within the span of that tentative and awkward kiss, I felt my guard drop like a stone and hope and wonder flood in.

In that moment I wanted to be transported. I wanted time to let the kiss change - relax deepen...I wanted to be able to look into your eyes and search your face and brush my lips across your smooth cheeks. I wanted to drink you in and let time stop. I wanted familiar magic and miracles to swirl around us and lift us up.

I wanted to never let you go...

Just me.

Rapture

To The Lady on the Train,

You are my rapture.

The Man in the Station

Like no other...

To The Lady on the Train,

Like no other, I love you.

The Man in the Station

Driving east

Driving east along the Trans-Canada, the St. Lawrence river shines silver-blue surrounded by fields of green and the blue high hills in the distance. The hum of tires, rush of wind, and our playlist fill the space in the car. It feels as though I am standing still and the earth, roads and miles move beneath me, slowly pulling the scenery past me.

I am afraid to hope - and I am afraid to give up hope. There is a hole in me and I am set adrift..

I am putting physical distance between us at a time when I want to rush to you. I could drive until I fall off the edge of the earth and it wouldn't feel any further than our emotional distance. Maybe you need the physical distance - maybe I need it. Maybe it is better this way - I don't know.

Three provinces, a great lake, rivers, and countless miles - half a country between us and I fear that I couldn't feel further from you than if I was standing beside you.. The difference is that if I was standing beside you, there is a chance that the distances would slowly vanish and that this canyon between us could be crossed.

I know what I want. I want to take you home. I want to sit on the couch, hold your hand, look into your eyes, see your face - and talk. I want to feel the distance vanish and to know the closeness that we once felt. I want to know that you have missed me as much as I have missed you. I want you to want us to work again. I want to heal. But what I want doesn't really matter.

I will spend they dying days of summer in a beautiful, peaceful place. I will walk on wet sand, bending to dig with my bare hands and pluck the gift of clams from the sand. I will lay on white sandy beaches and look out into the sparkling blue ocean. The sun and wind will turn my skin red and the sand will harden my hands and feet. I will spend a few days in this paradise alone - but you will be in my thoughts. What happens when I see you next - the where and when of how that happens, and whatever follows beyond that - will be up to you.

Me.

To The Lady on the Train,

I miss you.

The Man in the Station

Where the Magic is...

Angel,

There are many different kinds of magic. There is the kind of magic that belongs to a place. You can feel the hum of it through your feet when you stand on the earth. You can feel it swirling around you through an open window when you stand in the kitchen of a house with beautiful bones. You can feel it and know that in this place, anything might happen. Whatever ghosts or history you may have brought with you into this place, will soon be dispelled.. In this magical place, a new life is possible...

There is also the kind of magic that people possess - and the truly magical do not wield their magic. It simply spills out and follows them around as if they have filled their pockets full of sand. It will trail behind and cloud around them and change the world as they move through it - settling on everything they touch.

We have stood in such places and felt the presence of the magical people who inhabited the place. We have been lifted and seen the world through other eyes with wonder. We have layed on a bed where light bent and splinted into colours, landing on objects familiar and strange. We breathed in the swirling dust of magic and felt the hum and music. And we learned in that magical place that there is a strength in our hearts that surprised us.

Sometimes those places are lost to us and we fear that the magic is dispelled and dispersed. But magical people always seem to find magical places - an internal divining rod... There is a place of magic that feels like home though it isn't. There is a place where only happiness can bubble up - and an ease of being exactly where you are... Like all such places, there is order and there is chaos. There is smooth and rough. There is dazzling light and dark so black you cannot see. And there is great beauty.

Though you were not there, I took your hand and walked with you up the path toward the hardwood hills. We walked among the tall straight trees and through meadows, waist high in wild flowers and ferns. We stood by the ruins of the original homestead and felt the ghost of those who lived their lives there - toiling and laughing through joy and hardship. The earth holds their memory and we trod the same paths. Later, in a night so black that I could not see, I lay in a bed where we had once made love. I could feel the memory of you beside me in the dark. This place would be a place of love for us, I have no doubt. The magic is not lost to us - it has changed a little - but it would swirl around us, familiar as a scent. I will try to bring some back, filled in a pocket...

Just me.

A dream

I had a dream. I had a dream that I woke to an orange coloured morning - the sun slanting in the window an falling across your white and freckled shoulder. The sheets are kicked down to our waists and bunched under the cats at or feet.

I am awake and have the luxury of watching you sleep. The rise and fall of your chest, the puff of breath after you've held it... a twitch. A tangle of hair on the pillow and the softness of your form molded to me. With a finger I trace the line of you from just behind your ear, along your neck, across your shoulder, down the strength of your back, and finally over the gentle slopes of your hips... your straight lines and arcing curves: your soft skin and hard bone and muscle... I am tempted to explore your back, shoulders, legs... to follow freckles and patterns and lines of you.. to trace your spine from the hidden place under the curls of your hair to the sensitive area of your tailbone.. I am tempted, but I would disturb your sleep...

And so with the slant of light coming in through the window and you nestled so close against me, I slowly moved to the edge of the bed to get up. In your sleep, you notice the change in temperature? in touch? With a cat like stretch you settle and curl further into the pillow.. I will busy myself with the slow motions of making weekend coffee and breakfast. I will busy myself and wait to bring you breakfast in bed.

My World

To The Lady on the Train,

I cannot give you the whole world, but I will give you my whole world.

The Man in the Station.

Would you follow?

Angel,

If I look your hand to lead you, would you follow me wherever I may go? Would you walk with me through the stomping grounds of my childhood to see the places that helped form me? Would you let me show you the places of joy and pain in my past, and wander with me through memories, visiting ghosts of ancestors… 

Would you let me show you wild places where I have been and long to return to – to set our prints into mossy earth where few others have been? Will you come with me to see a sky so full of unfamiliar stars and a quiet that can hardly be imagined? Will you let me show you lakes of clear green glass reflecting  skies of blue, purple, pink and burning orange? If I took your hand, would you follow me to places where I have not yet been but long to share?

Would you come with me to venture into cities that have stood for centuries? Will you come where the language is not ours and the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes are strange and new to us but centuries old and at home? Will you walk beside me and wonder and see everything as new?

Will you walk with me across a land that is etched by the tracks of migrating animals and has felt the movement of their seasons since the world was young? If I took your hand, would you come with me to stand in an ancient sacred place and feel the spirits of animals moving across this land beyond time? Will you stand beside me on some vast plain and feel large because you are part of it, yet so small because we know how fleeting we truly are?

Will you follow me as I turn back to the places where we are from – to return to lands we know and love – and see them again in a new light? Will you come with me to a quiet lake nestled among trees growing on the hills carved by ice across this vast rock? Will you finally sit beside me in a place where we call home, our feet in cool water? Will you let me take you by the hand and lead you to all the places where we have been, where we have yet to go, and to places that we cannot even imagine?

Me.

If...

Angel,

Have you ever had a moment - a split second - perhaps when you are performing the most mundane or trivial of tasks., when you could imagine your life completely differently - and yet you would end up doing this exact same mundane task? It happens to me from time to time...

I could be in the kitchen putting chicken into the oven to cook and in that instant I know exactly what it would be like to performing that exact same task with you and our children just beyond the doorway... I can hear the voices. I can smell the scents. I know to my bones exactly what it would be like and to feel how right it would be for me...

I could be sitting on the couch at the end of the day and I can imagine what it would be like for your head to fall into my lap as you stretch out. I know that I would bend for a quick kiss and my hand would reach for some small patch of your skin to touch. We would talk of our day and we would range over topics that we cannot predict. Your voice in my ear, and seeing you relax - your face turned toward me and your beauty shining a light straight through to my heart... Oh I know it...

These moments hit me every once in a while - and if I could somehow step through some window or doorway...

I can imagine us.

Just me.

I will be...

Angel,

Every once in a while I get knocked on my ass in the most unexpected way.

The other thing that I learned - or rather re-learned - is what you need from me and what role you need me to be in your life.

I will be the person that accepts you just as you are.
I will be the one who can see you struggle, and yet see you as strong.
I will be the one who can see you doubting, and yet see you as confident.
I will be the one who can hear what you say and know what you mean.
I will be the one who sees the hardened shell and know what is protected.
I will be the one who can see what you most want to hide.
I will be the one who will hear what you will not say.
I will be the one who knows how you feel though you cannot say the words.
I will be the one who hears you say words that you do not feel

I love you - just as you are - no question - no doubt.
I wished that you knew it..

I will let you be the person that you need to be, as changeable as the sea, and as mysterious.

Just me.

As it is...

Angel,

There isn't anything that you could ever say, do, or show me, that will make me see you as anything other than absoloutely beautiful in every way.

Just me.

Simply

To The Lady on the Train,

I love you.

The Man in the Station

Away

To The Lady on the Train,

I feel the tug on my
heart whenever you go away …

The Man in the Station

More than Beautiful...

How to start...

These past few days have been a wonder for me. I have seen many sides of you - and I have reveled in every one. We asked each other if there is anything we would change. I said that there is nothing about you that I would change. It's the truth, and yet it isn't. There are times and in moments that I would change something about you... a different response or reaction, perhaps - but I honestly cannot say that I want to change you. I take you for exactly as you are - all of you - the good, the bad, the every in-between...

Watching you is like holding a precious stone in your hand and turning it in the light. it will at times be transparent, mirror the world, reflect colours that you can scarce imagine, and times hiding it's center... You can look at the stone, roll it in your hands, for an eternity - and though you think that you are looking at the entire stone - you know that it has so much more to reveal... You realize that there is no possible way to see the whole of this precious thing before you - it would take more than the lifetime that any man has been granted.

Oh, I have watched you turn, revealing different sides of your wonders, and I am held mesmerized.  You have caught me mid-stare and ask the usual question... "What?"... and I have answered with my usual answer "You are beautiful"... Here you have rolled your eyes or groaned or sighed... You do not believe me - or think me biased - or... I'm not sure what you think sometimes.

I tell you that you are beautiful because you are. But that does not come close to describing you. There are times when the sunlight shines on your face and I can see so much more of you… and in those times, every time, I am struck and left speechless.  I can see every lash on your eyes, every hair in your brow, the texture of your cheeks… I will follow the line of your forehead, over the bridge of your nose to the curl of your lip and around the edge of your chin – finally tracing my sight up the line of your jaw to your ear. I will let myself fall into the tumble of your curls.  I could hold your face in my sight forever – letting the world turn around us, days turning to nights and back to days…

I wish that I had the words to express how you make me feel when I look at you. There is a quickening of my pulse, a change in my breathing, and an overwhelming sense of ‘filling up’ and feeling more than I am. I look at you and sometimes memories of where we have been come flooding – and sometimes I am transported to somewhere we have not yet been but can imagine it like a memory… You are beautiful – you are more than beautiful – in many ways…

When you have my eyes..

Imagination...

I do not know what thoughts come to you in the quiet moments of your day or night. I do not know what fears haunt you the most when you feel small and vulnerable. I do not know to where your imagination takes you when you let it lead you by the hand or heart through all of the possibilities that exist. I do not know the places to which your mind or heart soars when you allow it.

But I do think of you in these times and I wonder where you wander.

And whatever your imaginings or thoughts I want you to know that what I feel for you is no imagination.

That I can accept all of you as you are - is not imagination. That I do accept all of you as you are - is not imagination. That I will always accept you for who you are - is no imagination. That I love you unconditionally and without reservation - is not imagination. That I am a simple man made of flesh, blood and bone who wants to be beside you - is not imagination. That this man will work for the privilege to be by your side - is not imagination. That this man will work with you to help you to achieve any goal - is not imagination. That this man will fight not against you but with you to beat any foe or concur any obstacle - is not imagination.

I am not an imagination.

A confession...

I know that you are the one that I want to spend the rest of my days with. You are the one that I want to spend the rest of my nights with.

Your face is the one I want to see as I drift off and it is the first thing that I want to see when I wake every morning.

I want to put my arms around you to hold you close as we sleep. I want to breathe you in and feel your hair against my cheek. We will talk about our day, work on a story, tell stories to each other. We will make each other laugh and cry.

And we will make love.

We will touch and caress each other. We will massage each other. We will explore each other and in so doing the territory that we explore is ultimately ourselves. Our terrain will have no boarders. There will be no fences, no roads. No gates. No guards.

The territories that we chart will be each other and ourselves. Know that we are wild and we are boundless. The maps we draw will not be framed or hemmed in. The secret maps that we draw will be as vast as the territories themselves.

In our explorations and charting - in all of our discoveries - we change the landscape. Maps will have to be redrawn, every time.

My Love, my Angel,

I want to explore and chart your every landscape, every river, every ocean. I want to place my footprints in your sand and to discover hidden valleys that no one has seen, where no one has been. I want to stand on the edge and look into some vast and uncharted territory or water - and not fear to go even further. I will leave my mark, but I will try do do no harm. I will touch as little as possible. I will treat these places with respect, reverence.

I want to find the places that have been damaged by others. If I find a poisoned river or if I find a track of land that has bee clear cut - stripped of what made it beautiful and alive, I will try to heal it. I will plant saplings. I will sow seeds. I will lay down fresh soil. And I will dance for cleansing rain.

I want to explore these places with you - with your permission - with your guidance, at times. I want to be lost in your oceans, forests, and valleys. I want to climb your mountains and swim in your depths. I want to never have to leave. I will be as the wind sweeping across your landscapes and oceans - exploring and changing - and always there.

I dream of you. I dream of us.

covering you...

Some of Your Charms...

I do not know what I have done to deserve you. You have a way of making me feel like I have never felt before. I wish that I could properly describe it, but all I can think about is being with you. Even with my eyes wide open, I can see your face - that's all I want to see. I can't stop thinking about holding your hand, kissing you - oh what those kisses do to me. I do not like being away from you - out of contact. You have become either an addiction or an obsession - or both.

You are beautiful and you have a physical presence that is very very powerful. The attraction that I feel for you in this regard, I cannot deny and I can barely control in a crowed room. When we are alone touching, kissing, looking in your eyes - I am totally and utterly beyond any ability to contain myself. Putting me in control is like putting a wolf in charge of a lamb - I just cannot resist you.

But the connection that I feel for you extends far beyond this physical attraction. I love your spirit. You are kind and generous but you are not lavish for the sake of lavishness - you take care that what you give will be appreciated. You have a soft and gentle nature but there is strength and resolve in you too. You are sensitive and vulnerable but feisty if injured and quick to let go of any injury. You are intelligent which is complimented with wonderful sense humour and a creative talent. You have a beautiful way of expressing yourself but you are not above swearing (I imagine shockingly so) when it is appropriate.

You have the most expressive eyes that I have ever seen - now that I have finally looked properly into them. In them I have seen such tenderness that it takes my heart right away. I have also seen the dark flash that is beautiful, but perhaps dangerous, like a flash of lightning. I love looking into your eyes, as you know. Your eyes begin to smile before the rest of your face catches up - and watching that smile grow, evolve, finally becoming a full radiant beam is one of my greatest secret pleasures.

I have seen all of these with my own eyes - these are first person, direct observations. Unbiased? Well, we can argue about that - which I also love to do with you.

You wonder why I feel the way I do about you? This is only the smallest list of examples and I can cite many other qualities that you possess - all of them fascinating, contradictory, and a part of you that makes you who you are.

I will spend many happy hours trying to decipher you. I will never tire of it. You never ever have to worry about trying to keep my interest - you are a tangle of mysteries and intricacies.

With every kiss that I give to you, it is I who receives the most - I have no doubt.

And I will cover you...

and be the richer for it.
always...

Today...

Angel,

This morning, dropping off a coffee, you were sitting behind your desk, your hair down - a tumble... There was a quietness in your voice and carriage, your eyes hidden from me... a hesitation to my presence.. Trying to read you.. gauging your mood, where your are.. here, away, distracted?... Today, this dance following you is difficult - I am not sure which way you are leading... I am not sure where to place my feet... I am not sure how close to hold you... You looked almost sad, yet perfectly beautiful - though you may not have felt so.

Later, walking for coffee - behind you on the escalator, I could not keep my eyes from you.. Your hair now up and the back of your neck exposed... your shoulders and back are strength and softness defined... freckled and white - in motion, the relax and contraction of muscle defined just under your skin... grace and steel and beauty... a panther... I wanted to lean forward and press my lips to the spot where shoulder and neck meet and feel your curls on my cheek... I wanted to feel you lean back into me and have your scent fill me.. I wanted to be somewhere else and have your curves and length of you melt into me as I drew you in... Oh that's what I wanted... that, and to take your hand as we walked...

You were still quiet, eyes distant... you almost looked troubled... your eyes still away and lost... Today, we dance slow and patient... you wandering in your own thoughts and I wandering in mine... where you wander now, I do not know, but if important, you will share later if you need to... and I will be here, I will always dance... and the dance will always change... your beauty, grace, and mystery hold me. Just you...

Just me.

While drifting off...

Angel,

If I could tell you now that you are beautiful, would you believe me? With the distance of highways and roads and streetlights and miles of city between us, you would doubt my words. Would you think that I am plying you with sweet words just to flatter you?

I can imagine you in your quiet moon lit room, the cool of the night spilling in the open window. Your dark curls on the pillow, arm crooked above your head. I can hear the rhythm of your breathing and the rustle of sheets when you move.

I know the scent of you... Your perfume a faint linger.. The smell of your hair and the salt sweat of your skin all mingle and fill me.

I know your face and lines and curves of you. I have seen you in bright sunlight and know your shape in the dark. I have traced you with my fingers and in my mind thousands of times...

I can imagine you just as you are - on the edge of sleep and drifting towards dreams. I see your face and smooth skin change as the care of the day fall away. Your shoulders, back, and limbs relax into the bed as you are transported.

I can imagine you just as you are - floating to worlds in your dreams.

You are beautiful.

Just Me.

Light and Air

To The Lady on the Train,

I wish I had the words that properly expressed all that I see in you and how you make me feel. You change; in your moods, in your expressions... I have watched you this weekend... I have watched you laugh, tease, been teased, argue, worry, and I have seen you sit back with ease after finishing with determination something outside of your comfort zone. I have heard your voice change with the conversation, and your laughter spill from you... You are like a multi-faceted gem that changes in the light.. At times, clear and bright - transparent.. At time sending colours in every direction and changing the mood of the room.. And at times so brilliant that you can't look directly without being struck blind by your beauty.

You should know how you change light and air...

The Man in the Station

Lucky enough...

To The Lady on the Train,

When I saw you the night of the dance, I swear, time stopped for an instant. All sound ceased - everything froze. My breath held and my heart skipped a beat. The world stumbled.

I watched you all night - laughing, talking, dancing... You hold me captive in a way that I cannot explain.. It has always been so, in your presence..

I remember times when you would walk close to me, causing the hairs on my arms and back of my neck to rise in goosebumps... If I was lucky enough, I could see the curve of the small of your back, the line of your shoulders and your white arms in fluid motion... Your head tilted, eyes shining and lifted... and always your smile... Your hair in tumbles or tamed, depending on your mood - always framing your beauty - and beaconing to be brushed aside for a kiss to be placed below your ear...

I remember times much earlier, seeing you in a hallway, passing by in the court... I remember noticing the swing of your hips as you walked, your straight back... the way you let the world around you fall away... wondering about you, drawn to your beauty and wanting to know more about - and being terrified at the thought of ever getting to know.. I believed that I would never be lucky enough..

And now, here... this simple man has beside him the woman that makes the world stumble...

Lucky enough...

The Man in the Station

The you I see...

Angel,

I do not know what you see when you see yourself - but I can tell you what I see...

This morning, sitting on the bench waiting for you, and hearing you before I can see you... I can pick out your footsteps on the marble floor - I can see you through the glass or in a reflection before you are fully revealed to me... and when you finally are, I see a tumble of curls resting on your shoulders, your eyes shining in my direction, long legs and a strength of posture... and then the slow smile because I am smiling at you... When you are sitting over the coffee with me, I can see an ease come - a kind of relaxation, maybe... a softening of your eyes, and your smile changes - just a little... I know that I tell you that you are beautiful - and you are - but it is so much more than that...You have a beauty that shines from your very core and moves me so that I feel the world must surly have stopped turning and time stopped... When we walk, I swear that I am 10 feet tall...

Across from you at lunch - watching your humour bubble up and your eyes light up - your stifled laughter and sharp shoulders... watching your slender fingers holding your fork.. knowing the softness and strength that they possess... and in the store, a slight lean toward you so that I could feel the impossible softness of your arm brush against mine... and trying to hold onto that moment when the world catches up and time speeds again...

The person that I see when I look at you is someone that I could never have imagined in my sweetest dreams - yet there you are...

That's who I see...

Just me.

Distance is a trick...

To The Lady on the Train,

I know what this weekend will hold for me - and I know what next week will hold for me. I must be crazy to put myself through it.

You will go away for the weekend and yet for me you will feel very close.  When you come back, though you may be close, you will feel so very far away...

The Man in the Station

Happy Mother`s Day

Happy Mother's Day. I hope that you have a wonderful day. Thank you for letting me share in it in some small way.

I don't know what it's like to be a mother. But I do know what it's like to see your heart, your breath, your love, some part of you that you did not know exist - all of that and more - take the form of a pink bundle of flesh like sausage links - screaming itself purple in the first moments of life outside.

I know what its like to see your entire world changed in an instant - suddenly feeling as proud as the most important person in the world - and incredibly humble at the miracle of this new life in your hands.

I know what it's like to be awed by creating such a perfect being and holding your child in your arms for the first time. Your life now siting in your arms... I know that feeling...

And I have had the great privilege to watch you with your child. The interaction between the two of you fascinates and awes me. I can see that she is your heart. You should be proud.

You are a wonderful mother.

Where I belong...

To The Lady on the Train, 

I am where I have always been - exactly where I belong. 

Beside you. 

And here is where I will stay. 

Come what may. 

The Man in the Station

A look...

To The Lady on the Train,

This morning you looked at me with a look that I have not seen in a very long time. It made me happy to see that it has not gone away completely - for some reason, you just need to hold it in...

The Man in the Station

Faith...

Angel,

Things have not been perfect between us the last few days... We have been here before, and I don't like being here. There is only one way for us to ever make sure that we never come back to this place.

I will have to tell you all the things that I keep from you. But I am worried too.You take on too much responsibility for my decisions. You take on guilt that is not yours to bear. And that is part of the reason that I keep some things from you.

You told me that I needed to have faith in you. I will leap. I will trust that you will not give up on us because it is not easy. I will trust that you will abandon me when I need you most. I have faith...

Just me.

Shine..

When I write, I usually tell you about the quieter, more romantic thoughts that go through my mind - how I feel... I tell you about those moments that I can almost feel you there.. Oh those moments are so real and what I write does not even come close to how it feels for me - except somehow, I think that you do know the feelings.. the moment... how I feel.

Just as there is more to our relationship than a romantic relationship, or a friendship... You and I both want more than just one thing... We want more from each other than just one dimension...

I am going to tell you about a side of you that I often see - but rarely let you know that I see it...

I sat on the steps, across a very loud and busy room, unable to see you, though acutely aware of where you were. Across that room I could hear your laugh..

In that laugh I knew your face and could picture your head tossed back.. your eyes closed... your shoulders sharp, elbows close, legs crossed....

hearing your laugh, my heart leapt... knowing that you are having fun and letting laughter float across this cavern without holding back, I could not help but smile... seeing you share a smile, a joke, a hug, a laugh with the people around you makes me incredibly happy...

even seeing you in the unexpectedly the other day, though it felt awkward for me... seeing your eyes shine and your smile made me happy. It was unexpected and my breath caught seeing you... I can pick out your voice through a din - and it moves me... especially when I hear joy in your voice...

I cannot help it - I am lifted up just hearing your happiness spill out - even if I have nothing to do with your moment. I celebrate your happiness.

I love watching you shine - even from across a room - it is how I have always watched you.. 

This morning...

Laying here in the dark and quiet of the early morning, I can picture you as clearly as if you were here beside me. I know your scent and wish that it still lingered here with me - but it has been too long since you were here last and has faded from these bed sheets... I can imagine it though...

I know your territories and the changing feel of your skin - from the impossible softness of your cheeks to the strength of your freckled back to the soles of your feet. I have explored those territories and know them by heart and yet I feel that I have barely begun my journey. My eyes closed, I can picture my hands finding you here and exploring all over again. There is a treasure in the touch of your skin - a press of thumb between your shoulder blades, my cheek pressed to the back of your knee, your hand on the back of my neck as I press my lips to your collar bone... There is a treasure in the feel of you and I am greedy for it..

I know the wild tumble of your hair and I know the feel of your curls against my cheek as you kiss me. I can imagine falling into the tumble, burying my face to whisper in your ear.

I know the sound of your voice and the changing tones...  I have heard joy, sadness, pride, anger, passion, and love in your voice... I have heard more than you have said... I have felt the whisper of your voice in my ear...

But mostly I think of your face...

I have seen your face in the changing light of this room as it brightens into the morning. I have seen your face in the slant of a sunny winter day. I have seen your face in the middle of a brilliant summer day. I have watched your face as a sun sets, colours and mood changing with every passing minute. I can imagine your face here, now, in the dim light of this room.. I can see the angle of your jaw from ear to chin - the roundness of your cheeks when you smile, and the corners of your eyes... or how they change when you look at me sometimes - that spot on your cheeks just below your eyes... I know your nose and your brow and your small ears... but as always, what holds me are your eyes... they change with your moods and thoughts - from piercing hard coal to gentle softness to holding a depth of emotion that I can scarce imagine... Now though, I imagine them in their medium brown colour, partial half mooned, but with a message in them trying to be conveyed... It is a look that I have seen before and I hold it in my mind now... you look at me with that look as I touch the back of your arm to your shoulder and then trace a line down your back...

You are beautiful and I am drawn into your orbit... I couldn't fight it if I wanted to... I keep falling.

Nervous...

Angel,

You come home today.  To be perfectly honest I am excited and nervous.

I never know what to expect - what reaction from me do you expect...

It feels like there is a distance between us - but that may just because of the circumstances - or it may be more... and I won't know until you return.

Whatever your feelings / thinking / mind set - I will be glad to see you.

I miss you.

Just me.

You will ask me..

To The Lady on the Train,

When you get back, you will ask me if I have missed you. I will pretend that I hardly even noticed that you haven't been around.

But I have missed you - like crazy...

The Man in the Station

If I could..

Angel,

If I could...

I would show you just how amazing you are...

and how perfect you are for me.

Just me...

P.S. Come home soon.

as it truly is...

Here it is..

as it truly is...

I do not care about any other opinion or view...

All I know is who I see and how I feel when I look at you.

You are beautiful. Absolutely and perfectly beautiful. Every time I look at you, I am transported - I am rendered speechless, breathless, senseless...

I cannot believe that you could ever have fallen for someone like me. I do not know how it happened, and I worry that I am in a dream and about to wake up - and no doubt eventually you will realize that so much more awaits for you... Until then, I will be selfish and accept your attention and affection.

You don't 'settle'. You won't 'settle'. You should never 'settle'.
I know that you could do so much better than me and eventually you will move on.

I am lucky beyond what I deserve - and I know it. I am the luckiest man on earth. Simple.

There it is..

as it truly is...

just the drive...

Driving with you beside me in the late afternoon - toward the westering sun. The day is warm for this time of year and the sun is shining brilliant. You look to the eastern sky and comment that the moon is also up and visible. The moon sits in the blue eastern sky, above the city and looks like a white pearl floating on water...

As the sun sinks lower and weakens, the western sky changes colour - taking on tones of red and orange. The colour on your face, tone in your skin, highlights in your hair, and sparkle in your eyes - all shining with a new radiance.. I can hardly look at you because your beauty could break my heart - and I can hardly keep from staring at you because your beauty has a gravity that I cannot pull away from...

We drive, your hand in mine - talking and laughing - and feeling a closeness that has shrunk the physical space between us. There is magic in the air, the twilight changing the colours around us as we move along the highway. We have our destination to the north of us and a few hours away... as we follow the curve of the highway to the north, the angle of the light from the sinking sun changes, coming now from our left. From my place on your left, I can see your face in profile - the angle of your jaw, the tumble of your curls, and the texture of the skin on cheek - so impossibly soft.

Our music plays as we talk and we have left no subject taboo or untouched... As we push our way north past the cities and wide highways, as we leave the loud sounds and hustling and bustling behind us, falling behind and getting smaller like a memory. The sky turns from reds to purples - and soon will slide to black... But the full moon rising shines silver and our light turns to a mystical shimmer.. I cannot see your features clearly now, but I know your warmth and shape by heart... your voice quiets and softens into the night. There is no longer any traffic, the road is down to two lanes and we are alone on this stretch of highway. It feels as though we are still and it is the world turning underneath of us - we are the center of the universe in this car, the moonlight lining you in silver, and the world moves our destination closer to us...

When we turn from the asphalt on to the narrow gravel road, we know that we are very close... The night is still warm, the moon is a high and brilliant orb, the stars now coming out by the millions, though not visible through the thick pines lining the road... It isn't until the car stops, we get out, and walk down hand in hand past the cabin to the water do we get a chance to see the full miracle of the night sky reflected in glass top of the lake.

I can see the full of you once again - bathed in the silver magic of the moonlight... It is not the warm glow of the dying sun - but it is just as beautiful - perhaps more. I move to stand close to you, face to face... my arm around you, my palm pressed to the small of your back, your breath close to my ear, your hair on my cheek, and the scent of you completely filling my up... I have longed to kiss you under the stars and moon... Here there is no sound but the rustle of you as your tilt your lips toward mine....

We share a kiss so unhurried,  tender, and sweet... with a softness that belies the passion that we both know is laying dormant for now... we know that we will share many kisses this weekend - and each one will be different - each one will communicate something new... We finish this kiss, my lips brushing yours so slowly... "If you start dinner, I will bring everything in from the car" I say.

Your smile and turning toward the cabin is the only reply I need.

As I head to the car, and see you through the cabin windows, lights brilliant and spilling light out onto the grass and trees, I wonder at us already.... So many moods, feelings, topics, songs, and looks have passed between us in the span of one drive... Ocean currents and tides have passed through us while in our small car.... I can feel it like a pressing on my skin... this was just the drive and I know - we both know - that this weekend will be something very special for us...

It has just begun...

Your light..

There is light that emanates from you - all of you. There is a glow and an energy to you. Your glow changes with your moods. Its reach and intensity reflecting your thoughts and feelings. It hums and pulses and radiates from you...

At times it is quiet and soft. At times the light can flash so brilliant as to blind a man...

Sometimes I can feel you from across a room, like sunlight on my skin; like a vibration in my core...

I cannot help but be mesmerized by you. I cannot help but be drawn to your glow.

Happy Valentine's Day

To The Lady on the Train,

I am a very lucky man to have you in my life. Evey day I cherish the fact that you are in it.
I wish that I had the words to express all that I feel for you.

I love you more than you know.

Happy Valentine's Day.

The Man in the Station

You...

about the clutter...

To The Lady on the Train,

I want your clutter. I want to hear you sing in the shower and while putting on your makeup.

I want the scent of you and the whisper of your movement drifting to me through the rooms.

I want to find traces of you in the most surprising of places and when I least expect it.

I want you to mess up my routine.

I want you to impose.

I want you to take up as much space in my life as you want. There will always be room for you.

You fit so perfectly and give me such happiness that I cannot properly express…

The Man in the Station

Windy city morning...

I lay in my bed of crisp white sheets. It is still dark and I am wakened by the wind pressing against the buildings and whistling through the windows. I lay listening to the wind and I can imagine that I am a deep forest with the wind swaying the trees overhead.. March, coming in like a lion, bringing with it a change that is felt like a current running through you.. Though the day has not yet begun, I know that people will wander down to the lake.. They will stand on the boardwalk and wander out onto the beach - to feel the sand beneath their shoes - not knowing what it is that moves them closer to the water... They will want to feel the wild warming wind push their bodies so that they have to lean into it... They will watch the waves high and crashing and move close enough to catch the feel of spray.. The wind will sound like a rushing train in their ears and have to shout to one another.. Faces twisted and forced to face the wind coming in off the grey angry lake, stiff legged and planting of feet in the damp sand.. After a minute or so of held breath and a solitary stance to defy the wind and also to greet it, they will turn away, faces red, eyes tearing.. They will reach for each other, hand in hand, or arms linked to walk stiltedly toward the safety of the boardwalk.

This city sits on a fat bellied slope of land that leans to a vast lake... Today the wind will try to push the lake violently further up onto the land, and we will go down to the shore - taking our turns to stare it down...

The light now creeps into my room and I can no longer imagine that I am in the woods just dreaming of the city. I am in the city, dreaming of the woods... And this wind is calling me to the shore..