There is a hint of Jasmine rolling on the warm wind tonight. There is a sensual langour in my limbs and all my windows are flung open to the temperate breeze that caresses my hair and kisses my face like a lover. I am a child of Autumn’s nostalgia and Winter’s wisfulness but on nights like these, when the heat is still bearable and the breeze is kind, I feel a sacred silence descend upon my soul and quiet me. It begs me to let it in.
I collect the still warm washing in darkness, listening to the sounds of wind through the trees. It sounds like the ocean – her salty heart beating upon the sandy shore, keeping time almost with my own. On nights like this I feel like I am on holiday in my life. Everything has a wonderful yet unfamiliar silhouette. I watch and listen and breathe in the fragranced air, wondering where I am. Truly, this is my life and these are the days of it but am I not just holidaying here, in this place, in this body, in this life? Maybe, when the silence descends it is time to simply be present and be grateful for the joy of living this life, different from every other we may have known, and remember that we never know when our borrowed time will run out. We are all here on loan from the Mystery.
There are birds in the darkness softly talking to one another. Their eyes pierce the darkness that simply fills mine. I do not mind. I like that I am not alone in this sun warmed night garden. I am, for a time, a visitor in their midnight world and I am content to simply listen and allow a pause to shake me from my ‘doings’.
It is bliss this simple summer night. I am falling into the arms of my Beloved knowing that we share some simple love that is deeper than time, and longer than that hungered for first kiss. How I ache for such simplicity and such tender caresses as are freely given on soft summer nights like these.
I hold out my hands into the darkness. And surrender.