f i r e f l y

I don’t wait for you, but I dream of you often.

There is a place where I feel my spirit in my body and the dissonance disappears. I feel my bones bear my muscles, my fat, my skin: every tissue, everywhere. My mind is alert: I smell fresh peaches and see green open fields filled with bee’s, butterfly’s and others, crowning the purple and yellow and red wildflowers. It’s aware: I feel the zephyr permeate the white cotton that clothes my frame. It’s focused: I know myself, and not just from the scars on this body, but from the spirit that has always been and will always be me. I am home.

I turn my head and fall into a deep blue ocean. I am not afraid, for I know these waters. I swim towards the bottom. The water is warm and soft. I lack no oxygen, my love can dive, my love can swim. And there is fire. It lights me up. I can see for miles. It ignites at my core, it is white, it is clean, it is pure. You hold my gaze and without a word or an embrace: I feel the fire, I feel the depth. I am home, I am home.

This house we built together. We brought wood from our own lands and together we nailed each piece into a shell of our choosing. Together, we grew life from the dirt in all shapes and colors, you bringing your seeds and I bringing mine. Together, never one out-working the other. We constructed a home, one built from pieces of us both. Pieces that could easily make a house all on their own, for they were whole, but we chose to tie them together and share something much bigger than we could have accomplished on our own.

I will find you in the wild nature of your dreams, for you will make your dreams your reality. I will see joy unlike any other. I will find a soul that is whole. When I see you, I will catch a glimpse of the land upon which we will build this home. I will find treasure, I will find rapture, I will know you when you light. me. up.