The Kiss

'There is another world, but it is in this one.' ~Paul Eluard

Here the Autumn sun sets, breaking its heart on the mountains, spilling gold down to the sea.

It is just before dawn there, halfway round the planet, where you sleep. As I sit for evening meditation here, I seem to see your head on its pillow. Your gentle smile is the soul rising to the top of you, like cream in a pitcher of fresh milk.

Do you know that I am there, visiting you, a moonlit mist around your face, deepening the wonder under you eyelids, drawing a sigh from your lips?

On those lips I place a tender kiss from another world. Yet surely, that other world is deeper inside this one than pollen in a lily. Someone more than I, for I am only a golden germ in the white petals of his radiance, sends his diamond fire into every atom of your body, whispering:

'Now, in this moment between waking and sleep, rest in Me. In this moment between time and eternity, before the burden of yesterday returns with tomorrow's dream, let us float together on a milk white sea of stars, neither in this world or the next, playing in jeweled waves of infinite possibility.'

Pulse of my heart, when you wake and go out, and sense some fragrant memory of that visitation, know that I am with you wherever you are. I am here to remind you that you were born to bless.

I am the laughter of the breeze, whispering in you hair, 'I love you.' I travel from star to star, writing poems about the kiss that is pressed forever on the imperishable splendor of your heart.

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