There is so much to discover over the edge. And if I could just reach it, if I could just walk forward with a spirit of expectance and float away from all that buries me, maybe I could expand myself endlessly. Wet soil grounds me, but when it settles, I become immovable, and thats something to be inspired by, yet still it feels like an unremarkable quality. Because how does one move when so unaware of what truly inspires her soul?
You are something that inspires me. The impressions of you well up through my body and rise me to my feet again. Loving you sends me over the edge in the best way. I want to burry myself in you, burrow my damp skin into the crevices of you. To kiss your taut lips is to sip from the convalescent lake, to drink in your taste – wet and welcoming.
I don’t see God in these ways and maybe that’s why he’s taken you from me. Or maybe that’s the landscape in which I’ve chosen to drown in because it’s really you who has taken yourself from me. You who has abandoned my deepest need, who has failed to understand me on the deepest level – in the same ways I’ve failed to know my own self and anyone else at that. I know I can be so immovable, but you didn’t have to leave.
Why would you choose to let me go?
Maybe loving me was a storm but stick around because so much life comes after it pours. So much is restored after the fire.
Come back just because I love you.
I am enough for you. In my river you can float, over my mountains you can soar, deep in my wilderness you’ll come alive and amongst my bushes you’ll burn with passion. Come exposing your light to the breeze, sway onward, let it move you closer and closer into me until you’re resting deep within, until the outside world is unrecognizable and lost feels like an embrace of something new.
My darling, I promise you it’s safe now, that a new season is on its way. One that can be trusted with the promises of orange, the elation of yellow, and the familiarity of green. All the colors are here for you. In this season winds are strong and only what’s rooted can remain. The old falls off and the newness is beckoned. Birds beg for branches and critters refuse emersion until it is time. What I have to offer is nothing without your gaze, your view, your longing.
Don’t you hear me calling?
Don’t you feel a part of you is missing?
I will let a million people drown in my lake until you come. And when you do, I will dry these bones just to be filled with only your presence. Stop running from me my love, stop driving down a road that will never lead you home. I am your home. You belong with me.
And so when that happens, when you find yourself needing to come home, I’ll meet you in the middle, outside of my element and into your arms. Until then, I’ll be immovable, belonging to nothing but this earth, secreted into the ground standing taller than a thousand trees (so you can find me). I want you to come and find me, to travel past your valleys of vengeance, around your boulders of brokenness, and into my wilderness away from your mistrust. Forget all that is familiar and all that lingers in your head. It’s time to accept the new. The world needs us together, I have no doubt in my soul.
Tell your heart I’m sorry and that our season of love is here, that it was waiting.
Miss Parisia B.