Twilight to Twilight

We played saxophone while watching fireflies and the natural fireworks of the storm just to our west. When my wine was finally chilled and my embouchure shot, we sat on the porch and played farkle and scrabble by candlelight, although lighting the candles was quite an ordeal. I finished off my bottle hours later after winning scrabble (I’ve got two out of three now, and I’m sure we’re the only ones keeping track). Slightly tipsy, we took it inside and the rain began in earnest. A perfect West Tennessee summer evening energy enveloping my being, curling my toes, he hikes up my skirt a little more. It is hot and sticky because the front hasn’t quite come through yet. The abandon of last week is absent and it is like the weekend has been, sticky and languid, with an impending sense of recklessness. I want to surmount the summit of ecstasy previously achieved, but the work week, the stress of the unknown, the wine, the heat, all are taking their toll.

“Baby, you can’t go to sleep yet. I’m not there. I’ll keep pestering you.”

But after changing into pajamas, dawn is breaking, the air has cooled slightly, we are on opposite sides of the bed, and I have had the most restful sleep I’ve had in weeks. I am almost ready to be up, sad it is dawn already. I think about how this could very well be the last time I will have any high vibe affection (thereby meaning any affection because I’m not going to let it happen otherwise, I vow) for any foreseeable future. I’m leaving, and perhaps best to leave the boys behind. All that energy I invested in my desire and adoration of the Captain and this is where I end up. Totally unexpected and pleasantly surprised. Then I think of the Golden Dreamer. I can feel his energy in that moment too. I drift to his eyes and his smile. Both the most perfect and mesmerizing I have ever encountered. I think of his creativity, his outstanding attitude, but his confession that he had no idea of the energy he was outputting. I think back to last year, him becoming my first friend in Redding really, and before the Captain or the man sleeping next to me where on my radar at all, how I told him there would come a day when he would miss my poetry. Work picked up and the flirtations abruptly stopped. Just now we are getting to the “always be good friends” stage. I wonder what will happen with my boys when I go back home, if everything has changed so much. If everything will abruptly stop. I shed three tears, one for each of them, wishing impossible things.

I am brought back to now, to my body, because he reaches out an arm to spoon me. The work alarm is going off and I finally shut it off. He resets it for 7:57, with plans of making muffins for breakfast. I drift back to sleep but a restless sleep of very vivid lucid dreams. There is no graham flour or cream cheese and a promise forms for some distant future raspberry cream cheese muffins, I imagine a sunny winter morning in the shadow of Soda Creek Ridge.

“Girl you’re making me gazey.”

It is then that I realize he never brought me any malted milk balls and there was not a breakfast cornicopia a la Marlan spread on the kitchen table. There is a drowsy conversation about breakfast tea involving black tea, yerba mate, green tea, white tea and how vanilla should not ever be with black tea. He disappears to make me tea and upon his return we fall back asleep, spooned together in the cool comfort of rain sounds.

I come back to the trailer at sunset and realize how much needs to be done by departure on Saturday, still without a place to live, still unsure what day I am starting work and I try hard not to fall into the gaping abyss of uncertainty. But then there is my wonderful baby who shares with me wonderfully random secrets…

My captain is wonderfully wise, peace-inducing, light-bearing, and utterly and beautifully synchronistic at times.

All of our emotions must be honoured for even though there are days when the seas and waters of life are calm and clear, there are also moments of turbulence which act as a sort of cleansing process. The turbulence can bring elements of our emotional world to the surface from depths that we have dis-owned consciously and yet those elements are still impacting us on a daily basis whether we choose to recognize they are still there or not.

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