“And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding
as it should. ”
~ Max Ehrman

Sometimes I write and wonder …it’s because you are a part of me, and I am a part of you; it’s as if you see me; reflecting like a mirror on a pond and just maybe I’m a copy cat of yourself, becoming like folded paper cut out heart shapes. It’s in the unfolding, when it to our delight that we turn out beautiful and imaginative; discovering that we are perfect for each other.

That’s what it’s like writing love letters to you… It’s about the times when you pull me close, letting me in, wrapping me in a web of warmth and we know that between the two of us, our hearts desire is the same and together; there is strength, there is a beauty brighter than the moon on broken glass.

There is a simple joy in knowing you’re not alone, everything is different now and even in the rain, that it sounds so differently here at night; when it brushes against our faces, it reminds me that there is another body here to protect us from that chill. These Welsh rains console me against the isolation I once felt before I knew you.

The green landscape in this place covers thousands of miles and it’s a different shade of green everywhere I look and my voice is not a lonely voice anymore, but of a romantic, hoping to find life with another soul to hold onto until the morning comes in with your sweet breath.

And when it does, i am finding comfort, with my head upon your shoulder, settling into the warmth of you breathing on my neck as we sleep; where there is nothing about emotion that is weak and insufficient, nothing that will wrinkle the soul of intimacy that we have sown.

i hope that as we grow old together, these paper cut out hearts are for keeps, like the rain, always here and forever entangled in your arms. Remembering that you are enough and it’s enough to imagine what we will be; a story held dear to the hearts of lovers, deep in the throes of beauty.

When it’s enough
to say that I love you,
within these tendrils of my heart,
we are just as fine and fragile,
but it is within this grace,
that our union becomes
unfolding and settling.

“All the Colors of Green”
By Katie Murphy ~ pseudo
(a work in progress)
Chapter 8 ~ Unfolding

2 thoughts on “Unfolding

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