tribute to the writings of Christopher Poindexter. Part III

“Do you feel that?”
She asked as we watched
the stars and moon illuminate
the sea before us.
“Tell me you feel it?
that longing to not just exist,
but to live and to live beautifully?”
I, with a smile filled with so
much truth it could move
the clouds, said to her:
“Of course I feel it. The heart
in you, is the heart in me.”

“Love is many things and
sometimes we are never
really sure if it even
exists, but all I know
is that if you were to
show me her soul
in a photograph,
I wouldn’t even ask
To see the others.”

And in the end…or actually in the beginning…

“She wiped the black spilling
from her eyelashes onto her cheek,
and in that moment, I wanted, I
needed, for magic to exist.
I wanted to peel back her lonely
skin and feel her sadness stare
straight into the blue inside my eyes.
I wanted and I needed it to know,
that I, I loved her too, and my god
I, I would fight for her.”

“…I knew in that moment
that it is and it will
always be the simple things
that plant the most
phenomenal truths
inside us.”

A few months ago, I had the privilege to witness a few moments in the beautiful living of a necessary love story. I was at a shopping mall and I watching a married couple in their 70’s. I noticed she had a small, simple vintage diamond ring. She also had a walker. He was hunched over. They stopped for a moment to talk about their Younger days. He got a cart. She giggled as he helped put her walker in the cart, and then tenderly swept a wisp of white hair from her face. And off they went, so very slowly down one of the aisles, arm in arm. But not before they kissed each others hands and smiled at each other.

I stood there mesmerized. How amazing love can be…it transforms everything. And I thought what a gift it is to find someone not to grow old with, but to grow young with like this. Because they were so young.

These two souls did not simply exist. They had lived and were living beautifully together. I’m certain they had their fierce arguments and terribly difficult moments over the years. Surely he too was once terrified of swimming, as we all are. And she, of being an ocean. But not anymore, not for quite a while. He had clearly remained a boy, and she was obviously his ocean, one that took care to keep him safe as he swam, while his presence gently softened even the greatest of waves within her.

And so here they were, on a random day in a random mall, still dancing together as they had done for a very, very long time. They were so necessary…to themselves and each other. To me, to all of us. Such living and loving are so necessary.I wished it then as I do now…that we may all get to dance and grow young like this…and do our gifts and fears alike justice in the sharing.

END

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