Saturday, August 2, 2014

Conversations with Freya by Bridget Robertson

Tell me again.

You were on a swing. The light was dancing across the ripples of blue. Moving light marbles you called them.

I whispered, remember this!

Do you?

I have caressed that memory my entire life. It has never worn or faded.

You were a child. Lost in late summer light and water. Always the water. Your canvas for brushing visions and dreams across your life. Quiet and beauty beheld you.

I thought I was the the one beholding it.

To behold you must be held.

I stayed as light gave way.

You welcomed the fading light. Twighlight meant something....

Magic of shadows were more real than shapes. I met you there.

Let go. The deep is your comfort. The dark your blanket. You carved your life into my heart. Trust this. Trust me. You are my own.

Just let go?

Not even I know the outcome. I will traverse the course with you. I will gather the love, call for the whispers of all who you have touched. Keep hope burning. Just give way.

Exhaling into you. Arms entwined.

Come what may.

-Bridget Roberton

Painting by Elisabeth Slettnes

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