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| As the Thorn Protects the Rose, My Pen Preservers Our Love |
LOVE’S TOMBSTONE
My Dearest Darling,
I visited a cemetery the other day to pray for the eternal blessing of our Love.
At first glance, you might think such an act perhaps morbid and unromantic, but I beg you to bear with me as I explain how the visit fuels the power of True Love.
True Love--that Love I seek to offer you and commit my soul to wait for the same from you, whether or not it ever comes--True Love is Eternal.
Eternal Love survives life and death and soars rich with passion into the hearts of future generations. The proof such powerful Love exists is in the graveyard. Its Truth is etched upon the tombstones.
As I walked solemnly among the plots of those long past, I noted the graves of husbands and wives. They lay side by side, one predated the other, but their inscriptions always carried the words: “beloved” or “loving.” The living saluted the dead and preserved the Love between Life and Death in granite and marble.
Atop many of the gray tombstones rested freshly polished rocks. These rocks are symbols of recent visitors to the graves, descendents of the interned Lovers. Great great grandchildren perhaps, who, in their search for their own inner Cores of Love, come to the gravesite to witness the Eternal Nature of Love, to prove that Love exists when life as we know it has vacated the body and nothing is left but the Sensual Soul. Perhaps these descendents of True Love know the Sensual Soul contains the essence of Pure Love and when it is released of the body upon death it whirls about the universe with the same carefree nature of a summer’s soft breeze.
After traversing the graveyard in deep thought, I picked a set of tomstones and knelt between them. Lovingly, I traced my fingers over the ancient inscriptions. The granite was severly worn by endless seasons of weather. The wind and rain smoothed once sharp indentions, causing names to fade, words to meld into the body of the granite. Key letters of a name had, like a giant glacier, one drop of water at a time, evaporated so imperceptibly one might think Time itself was an eraser of True Love.
But, I knew the wearing of the stone did not mitigate the Eternal Love chiseled into its surface. I had knelt next to many tombstone legacies that were imperceptible. Despite Time's grinding teeth, I knew the tombstones were Love Legacies between husband and wife or lovers who defied convention.
Kneeling on the soft grass, I reached out and laid one hand on the husband’s tombstone and the other on the wife’s, creating a bridge with my living body between the epithets of Love. I felt a tingling surge through me, as though I connected the two poles of Love, that in some small way I resurrected the Life of Love for a brief instant.
Kneeling on the soft grass, I reached out and laid one hand on the husband’s tombstone and the other on the wife’s, creating a bridge with my living body between the epithets of Love. I felt a tingling surge through me, as though I connected the two poles of Love, that in some small way I resurrected the Life of Love for a brief instant.
Whether true or not, my Darling, Love Past become Love Present through the bridge of my own Love for you.
As the ecstatic feeling passed, my heart pondered if some day we might rest next to one another in some ancient graveyard, our names fading in the dusk of time, our Sensual Souls fluttering about the universe, free of body, free of any of life’s sufferings, void of the pain Doubt, Fear and Confusion bears upon those who feel they are not Loved.
As the sparrows darted overhead, I continued to wonder if some day in the future a man or woman who Loved Love as I Love Love, might visit our graveyard and kneel and place his or her hand on your tombstone and his or her other hand on mine. And through the ignition of his or her Love for Love, bring to life the earthly Love we once enjoyed, and connect us as our Sensuous Souls cannot, one body to the other, consumed into mulch by the earth, but vibrant in momentary Life across the Bridge of Love.
Yes, my Love. Eternal Love is worth living for. I await the day we will know it as no other has or ever will. And on our tombstones, the following will be carved to last though the Seasons of Time...Meus amor tibi aeternus est.
Aeternus amor,
Cyrano!
Anderson-McKenzie
© 2012, Cyrano! Anderson-McKenzie, C.A. McKenzie. All Cyrano! writings are original and created daily by the author. Anyone wishing to contribute funds to the maintenance and support of the Cyrano! blog should send their contributions to C.A. McKenzie, 53 East 7th St. #9, NY, NY 10003
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| As the Thorn Protects the Rose, My Pen Preservers Our Love |
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