The Mating Rituals of Two

The human being is a strange yet beautiful creature. Alone, we walk independently, comforted by the world’s winds that fold around us. Our hands are open and we hold everything but another. We collect the dust and sand that keep our fingers busy building castles on the shores of our potential. Then one day, those same winds carry a hand that lands, of all places, to meet our own. The sand all of a sudden seems so pointless and the ocean pulls our castles back to be with her in the sea.

The fingertips brush and coax and dance amongst the folds of our lives, timid at first, like dipping toes into a cool pool. As the sensation becomes a part of us, we allow our hands to penetrate deeper and deeper into our very being. Complimentary curves fit like puzzle pieces and as the picture expands so does the desire to put ourselves together again. Chemical concoctions pull moist lips and adjoining parts closer with the force of nature’s magnetism. The world’s winds feed brightening flames that heat spaces sheltered from the harshness of storms we might have known.

Heat intensifies, loosening thoughts from our mouths and beating from our hearts until they flow into the eyes of the other soul, showing a mirror unto ourselves. Looking into the warmth and light, we see who we are, who we can be…a spiritual awaking takes place in the sacred temple of love. Tangled strands of you become part of me, exposing the beauty of Divine design, the feeling the flowers must feel to see their pollen floating away with the bee. The day and night become hazy, fuzzy, indistinguishable realms in which we traverse only to come together. Our bodies, minds and hearts twist and turn the world upside down, showing heaven was right beneath us all along. And as I watch us discover these truths in each other’s arms I pray someone investigates this phenomenon further. For the ritualized dance of lovers may hold the secret to finding that God is just a fingertip away.