Forty . . .

longing for Snowflake, my wandering soul-mate

by Stormcat

It's easy for you to know where I am because I seldom go anywhere. You on the other hand are always going somewhere. So that even when informed, you've left that somewhere, I find myself uncertain of your destination. Not that I wish to control, impose on your solitude, or even track your movement . . . rather that I long for the comfort of your spirit . . . to live within the relief of feeling that you remain possible.

For what are you searching, my Love, the comfort of Eden? There is no Eden of the body . . . it is not a physical place; rather it is a condition of appropriately blended soul . . . it cannot be reached alone, in isolation . . . nor in the company of casual connection . . . only through the development of the absolute and the perfection of the uncertain; that perfection wholly embodied within mutual acceptance thereof.

Our lives are in winter . . . season of frigid cold . . . but we are Snowflake and Stormcat . . .  I am the cat of the sky longing to soar, yet born of the earth destined to always return thereto . . . You are born ethereal high in the clouds of tumultuous uncertainty. . .  though you long to rest, you are meant to float on the wind; even as you melt, your essence returns to clouds to be born anew. . . We intersect souls in skyspace.

Come fly with me! Rest in the insulation of fur armor take solace in fierce desire. Justify transcendence to winds aloft that we may dine together on delicate ecstasy. Settle in the fortress of shared solitude building barricades excluding unwanted disturbance. Venture confidently into peaceful eternity trusting in the permanence of unquenchable love proffered in quiet hope, freely irrevocably offered in innocence.

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Poets United - Midweek Motif "Hunger"