ebb and flow

here it is, that time of the night that bears the name "morning" yet is shrouded in darkness.
the sun is still hidden, and the air is quiet and still.

i can't sleep.

in the quiet, my thoughts seem to grow louder, and rest is no longer an option or possibility.
i think about relationships and wonder where they will go. wonder if love has lessened. wonder if i am loved less while loving more and more. wonder if we are drifting apart.

i am thinking about drift, and how distance hurts me. wondering why i feel this way while the counselor in me wonders if i have attachment problems, the accuser in me cuts me down for it, the lover in me hurts because of it, and the visionary in me hopes for closeness again.

all of me knows the truth of ebb and flow.

sometimes, i think i mistake the ebb for drift. just as the water in the ocean draws back and moves forward, so too with love and knowing one another.

perhaps i am comforting myself. perhaps it is true.

but i can't help but recognize that even when the waters of the sea draw back, there is still contact and connection with the shore. there is constant relationship. and the landscape is constantly changing with each new tide. and new ways of relating and connecting are formed as new places become more open and new revelations emerge from below the surface. ebb is necessary for erosion and so that the shore is not lost in the waters of the tide.

when i think i feel drift, i often look at messages, notes, and any tangible representation of the love i have known. i guess it should be no wonder to me, a writer, that the written word carries so much for me. to see the words "i love you" and more creative, variations on the theme bring warmth and calming to my soul. so i reminisce - not daring to ask for written conformation of love i know is there, but cannot feel.

perhaps i am finally recognizing a need i have - to be loved in this way, so that i can remember the truth when it doesn't feel true.
when love draws back in a swelling ebb

and i await and long for the flow of unrelenting unguarded love to come crashing in on me once again with abandon.


like an un-choreographed dance, it is free,

wild,

and beautiful.


i find that i am sensitive to connection. hyper-sensitive even. perhaps it is because of all the love inside of me. perhaps because of the love i long to receive as i give.

just as surely as dark and light ebb and flow into night and day
and the waters of the sea and the surface of the shore cling to one another

love and peace stay connected

and dance that dance only the free ones know

and we are held therein