Bitter taste? Love must be tempered or we never understand the truth in our hearts. How wonderful it is to trust we can push away the ones we love, only to dance back into their arms again. Arms soft and safe. Arms that wrap us into the heart, anchor us to reality.
Everything has an opposite engagement. Like the color of night to day. The ink on white paper. Everything has a shadow. These shadows richen the pallet of our lives. Intensifies the hues. Sharpens the intake of pain. The exhalation of bliss.
I would love to walk in the street with the women in sunset colors. Smell the life there. Taste the language of being a stranger. But what relief would come in the midnight blues, the tropical banana leaf green shade. It is hard to live your life completely out in the sun. It’s hard to understand luck when it is the only thing that crosses your door.
Blot nothing out. Savor that bitterness. It is the only thing that keeps you and me real. It is the shadow that makes the words come.
It’s the light that burns them away.
G.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
~Pablo Neruda
2 comments:
The darkness gives birth to the light,the light to darkness. I live in the realm, in between.
Yes, Fin... yes.
But without the shadows, we would not understand the the quality of light, Dreamer. I would think your world is beautiful in texture and shadow.
G.
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