The young at heart chases love with every feverish passionate moment she has. She pursues love with her last breath, if that is what is required of her. She knows no boundaries or limitations and she rushes to find what she knows is out there calling to her. The young at heart grieves for what is not yet achieved and worries of a future that leaves her lonely or without the opportunity she so dearly tries to not miss.
The wise at heart knows that time does not exist so to race against a clock or the thought that her time will run out becomes silly and unnecessary. She knows that love does not need to be chased in order to be acquired. She has known the pain of arriving too soon to her beloved, only to find him unready, and apathetic to the miracle she was ready to gift to him. She has learned the mistake of haste. And she has since learned the wisdom of perfect timing.
The wise at heart does not pursue, nor does she pull back. She simply closes her eyes and sees herself in full splendor. She realizes the universe is completely transparent, so she knows that how she sees herself is how her beloved will see her too. He will feel her in his moments of quiet. He will see her in his dreams. His soul will call her to him with a magnetism that will leave him breathless and yet completely at peace. She will share it because what affects one, affects both, and she is ready for experiencing two lives living in harmony as one. He will remember her, because he is meant to. So there is nothing she nor he need to do to force what was always meant to be, when it was meant to be.
So beautiful she was, as all her beloved’s of the past and distant lands saw her to be. But so fragile she was within her heart. She realized that love was an offering, and not a guarantee. And she recognized that even a soulmate was as fragile as a glass slipper. Oh how she prayed for that day to come for so many years, that she could finally connect to her soulmate love. If only he hadn’t been wearing armor so impenetrable that even she couldn’t keep his heart warm. If only he knew he didn’t need to keep himself guarded any longer.
The young at heart, so eager to protect himself, shudders at the very moment he is put on defense. He resists the experience of vulnerability and anything that triggers it. So long the young at heart built its defenses, only to be tested, and found to have weakness. This ignites passion to further self defense and so, the battle within begins. The young at heart scoffs at the thought that this could be the only opportunity for real happiness, so he marches on away from his love, away from all her magnificent glory with glowing eyes and gold light shining outward from every place her soul can shine. She is an example of raw beauty, untamed, and innocent. So torn is he, with the choice to dismiss her importance, and yet capture the fleeting shooting star that has crossed his night sky.
The wise at heart has lived his pain and has known the scars of rejection, neglect and surrender. And yet he finds a way to see his opportunity without tainting his understanding of her with his hurt from long ago. He understands she is not like the rest, and that the rest were only tests that led him to her. They were his dragon he had to defeat to make it to her castle. The wise at heart has learned how to differentiate between dragon and goddess. He has understood what he must do which requires the most trust he has ever given. But, he knows he must do it, so he gives her his trust, freely. He needs her to see it, so they can be one, together.
The young at heart doubts. He resists. He rejects all he sees even though it is as clear as the blue sky that wraps itself around him. Oh why does her beloved resist her so? What has he to gain by believing she is not real? What has he to gain by thinking she is but a fantasy who couldn’t possibly live up to his expectations? Ah, so much he has to learn. He dismisses the beauty of being able to feel her, see her, touch her, and hear her despite the distance between them.
Divine love is but a whisper in a tornado, a four leaf clover in a patch of wild brush, a moment in time held suspended…without a single need to change what is for something that was or may never be. It is a pure divinity in but a pool of soot and debris. It is sacred among the blemishes of life. And therefore, should be cherished. It is resurrection in a world of death.
And even angels weep when love is denied.
To the beloved, the only thing worth fighting for, living for, or surrendering to, is love. To the beloved, that is the only thing that is real in a world full of holograms, shadows and fantasies. “Love”, she whispered to his soul. “Love can be denied but not destroyed. Love is everlasting. Love is the password into Heaven.”
© Debbie Edwards