my First entry, it's not long, but worth a read, we can find inspiration anywhere.
|While at the cottage, sitting in the early afternoon sun reading a bit of my book, a Monarch had landed on my toe. I thought about two things, the first being “I really should repaint my toenails” and the second, was a fleeting idea that prompted me to grab my note book (which was lying at my side) and jot down what eventually evolved into this:
Lying on a vacant beach, a true summer landscape, I find myself lying on the sand that seems to expand for miles in tall dunes. My back exposed to the sun, I knowingly give up my body to the elements. It’s a thin sand, just dense enough to support me yet smooth enough to be mistaken for sateen at first touch. My face rests in the sand with my hands somewhere just underneath. My legs growing warmer are spread with the soles of my feet pointing to towards the sky. I keep my eyes closed and let my ideas slow down.
So rare is it I can ease into a calming mindset, so inexplicable it is how I can find myself on a beach in the sun when so much stress and uncertainty surrounds me. My breathing is deep and relaxed, matching the exhales of the water as the sound of the gently overturning waves imitates my slow steady release of pent up tension.
Out of nowhere, possibly following an invisible air current, a few golden butterflies ease their bodies silently in random directions around me. Their wings are as light as a fevered breeze and soft; as if polished from the very wind that carries them.
One lands on my shoulder, bringing with it a soothing sting of heat. I’m warm all over already, but as soon as the sensation tapers off, another intense flutter slowly glides down my back. My skin in sensitive to the soft burn of these beautiful visitors and thus I’m becoming more aware of their caresses along my spine.
This time anticipated, another pleasant burn on my shoulder-blade refers to yet another innocent butterfly. I don’t feel them taking off, and I’ve done nothing to attract the beautiful creatures but the tickle of their wings and the heat of their random landings is quite welcome. I’m not sure if the first few are still on me but the tiny heated pressures are, I believe, becoming more frequent
I move my arms semi-consciously and, in a shady vague realisation, I’m aware that I have no true sand to grasp. Instead I hear a calm moan, one of which I am certain has not originated from within my own depths.
“mmm…” I hear foggy and distant. I shift my legs which are now entangled in the sheets and my mind twirls in all that is real:
The heat of her lips continue to explore the skin along my back. A few more butterfly kisses on the curve of my neck and I awake slowly, from my dream, only to realize with the morning's first thoughts that with Her loving me,
I’m still living one.