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The Dance of life (story).


Gold Hawk

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Sorry... there is no place for "STORIES" on this forum and this one waxes more poetic than anything.... it started out as a poem and ended being told in story form.

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Did you ever have one of those days where it seems like your life slam’s up against the wall and everything stands still for a moment while fate plays her whimsy with your heart?

 

I can’t remember what kind of day it was. Don’t think I cared if it was sunny or raining, snowing or blowing. It was just another day that had to be gotten through. When out of the corner of my eye… I saw him. Tall…..Dark… Handsome, Black leather jacket, dark sun glasses, long black wavey hair, a scruffy beard and a strut to his stride that would put Travolta to shame. A dark Angel.. hmmmmm. The air in my lungs came out in one long wwwooooooshhhh. My heart skipped a beat, mouth dropped and I struggled for breath and thought. Gorgeous. Absolutely Gorgeous. Ever have that happen to ya? Ever fall into love at first sight???

 

Your thought process turns to mush and all you manage is to stutter and stammer. Coherant thought and speech non-existent. Hmmmm what a delicious spicey feeling.

Butterflies in your belly, blood racing through your veins pounding like number 5 rapids on an engourged river, and legs feeling like lead… totally immobilized… immovable. rooted to the spot.

 

My mind and heart has etched this scene into the core of my being for all time. For something like this is truly rare. Truly a gem. Who the hell was that? Was it a dream? Wishful thinking? Wow.

 

The bane of my existence interrupted by… a vision. The life that I’d so well compartmentalized, crammed into every minute of every day, organized chaos, stark,

Void and emotionless, struggling to just make it to Friday…. Wishing my life away, suddenly changed in one breath, one glance, but for a moment.

 

About an hour later, I came to my senses and life went on. I didn’t expect to act on my primal instinct of going out on the prowl like a lioness…. going out to hunt down my prey and snap him up for myself. Those days of chase and hunt have long since passed.

My conscience sat on my right shoulder whispering sobering thoughts. While the spirit of the wolf that flows through all women chuckled on my left shoulder. A deep husky knowing chuckle. Conscience playing with spirit… squashing down the primal urge of hunt.

 

Ahhh but the witches of fate had their own plan they’d devine in a short while. It was like one of those romantic comedies we all know and love, “When Harry Met Sally”, “Sleepless in Seatle,” or “You’ve Got Mail”…. Ok so I’m a Meg Ryan fan, shoot me. Lol. Fate had its own plan….. my dark Angel and I would meet again and again through hap and circumstance time and again. Until one day he asked me out for a cup of coffee. YESSSSSSSS… AMBROSIA OF THE GODS….. one of my favorite vices. Coffee.

 

What harm could there come from a simple cup of coffee shared with good company.

 

We’d meet and do the dance over coffee and words… our bodies on this plane but our souls would meet on the astral. They’d meet in a simple dance. To the left and pause and then right again. Attention, a glance, a look and stop. Breathing in unision eyes locked… bodies moving step by step. Back step, front, front back, stop. Each step in perfect unison. Each movement measured, held and savored. His touch, his breath, the look in his eye…. Lead, follow, pursue, retreat, weaving a spell of intimacy, drawing each other into one another’s world. We’d meet for coffee and chat and yet our souls would dance the Tango on the Astral. Magic.

 

His voice was resonant, broad, deep. If I closed my eyes and listened to him tell his tale, I could float to the bottom of the ocean blue. Imagining myself floating on the shores of the isle of mists.

 

A simple cup of coffee and some conversation. It wasn’t long before we discovered the similarities and criss-crossed paths our lives wove. The shared experiences and like depth of feelings of kindred spirits.

 

There was controversy later of who kissed who first. Was it me.. was it him…grin.

Who pulled the trigger first? Who lit the fuse first? Does it really matter? If it does then it was me. I did the deed. I lost the battle of will. I had to know. I’d watched him all afternoon or was it an eon and all I could think of was… “I wonder….” I wonder what those lips would taste like. I wonder if they’d rock my world. I wonder if the earth will tremble and the Angels cry. I wonder. I don’t remember a word he said that day… I saw his mouth moving as he told me stories that were either true, not true, fantastic lies from a gilded tongue or fact…. I didn’t know. I didn’t much care. The spell wove around us as we shared a cup of coffee and watched bee’s buzz around butter-cups. My only thought was…. “Kiss me…. Please kiss me.” And he didn’t. Gentleman? Cad? Artful dodger? Or just plain dense and unsuspecting of my private thoughts. Before we left that perfect spot and perfect day, I reached out and grabbed his arm… “STOP”…a foot slammed on the break and he turned to me. I leaned over and said.. “I have to know….” And I kissed him.

 

Time stood still. The wind died down, bee’s quit their buzzing and the birds stood still. Two souls stood on a precipice as our eyes met, closer and closer. Breathes mingling and then finally the touch. Our lips met. My eyes closed and our worlds collided. The air begin to shake and shimmy. The whoooosh of my heart as it pounded blood through my entire body like fireworks on the fourth of July. The ground beneath me quaked and groaned…. Or was it the groan of my Angel that I heard as his gentlemans wall crumbled and I stormed his castle. Magic.

 

The look in his deep dark eyes reached into my soul as we parted. My lips tingling from that brief touch. I felt like I’d just touched an open flame. I touched the untouchable. I touched magic and he grinned and said….”you know, there’s no going back now.”

 

And thus…. Our dance would begin. The Tango. Two tangled up lives trying to dance, trying to untangle enough loose ends to be together, to come together, just to be.

 

 

The Tango….My dark Angel was an excellent partner to my soul. We walked hand in hand in our own little world for that spell. A striking couple parting crowds. Walking hand in hand or with is hand at the small of my back was like dancing to our own music. The beat of our own drum. The energy created between us of dark and light shimmered in our wake.

 

One of my favorite times of year is the fall. When the leaves turn brilliant shades to paint the earth. That year they turned to gold. Down by the river where nobody goes, to the place that only lovers can find we walked the riverbanks hand in hand. The river running its course like our lives in the background, leaves creating a golden path and raining showers of gold on our heads, luring us ever deeper into the arms of the forest. Deep down on the path a small wooden bridge. We walked silent hand in hand letting the magic envelope us and stood in the middle of that bridge listening to the whispering uninteligable language of the tree’s.

 

That little wooden bridge that stood between two banks. Ever think about a bridge and its purpose? A bridge a structure built to span a body of water, road, valley or any other physical obstacle. Allowing easy passage over an obstacle by providing a route that would otherwise be impossible.

 

Had I had a coherrant thought mayhap that bridge would have held the significance it does for me today. But my thoughts were not in their right mind, intoxicated as it was with dare I say it…. Love?

 

He brought my hand up to his heart whilst his other arm encircled my waist. Eye to eye, toe to toe, belly to belly, chest to breast… “Dance with me” and we moved to the music in our minds. Two hearts from two worlds meeting in the middle of a little bridge in the middle of the woods. The architect designed that bridge us in mind and that day… I cleared a huge place in my heart for this man. Whether he stayed or went made no difference in that corner of my heart would lay all of our most treasured moments and shared breaths for all time. A part of me, shape shifted and changed…forever.

 

And we danced. We danced like no one had ever danced before. We danced on our bridge. We danced in an truck stop parking lot under a neon sign. We danced on hard wood floors. We danced in a pool hall. We danced in the supermarket. We danced when we went out to dinner. And we danced standing in line at a concert hall. We danced listening to the music in our heads.

 

The Tango??? Not quite but close enough. He extended his hand and I took it in complete trust. He lead, I followed. I invited and he met my call. And we danced.

 

Grin… and how does this story end? Ahhhh well…. Like all Dark Angels, he arrived, raised hell and departed. I gave him my hand in perfect love and trust. I thought the bridge would be strong enough to withstand and to bring our two worlds together. In the end I stood on my side of the bridge and he stood rooted to his. There were so many times where we stood on the opposite banks of that bridge… willing each other to walk accross to meet each other half way. I’d walk to the middle of the bridge and beseech him to come on his own steam. He’d look at the firmament to familiar and comfortable that he stood on and was loathe to take the leap of faith. Grin… and why not. It was home. It was all he knew. My dark Angel with the silver tongue that could do so many delicious things to my body and soul could also weave the most provocative distortions of reality the reasons behind his motive suspect. It really doesn’t matter since this is a fairy tale does it???? As long as we lived and loved in our own created little world reality didn’t matter. But reality bites. Reality rules us and directs our lives whether we like it or not.

 

It was with a saddened heart the fog cleared. I gasped for air and reached for sanity’s cloak as I stood in the middle of that bridge. My primal urge wanted to scream my anger, hurt and forsaken heart. I wanted to hurt him, throw arrows, knives and spears at him to move him. Instead I find myself smiling at the crones of fate and timing. Knowing that they do their jobs in their own good time and their own will.

 

“Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine. Two shadows start and softly combine….Passions uncaged, thundering moments and grin…. finally rage. Tempered and strong two swords clash…..steam up from the earth and salt in a kiss…sweet lies on his lips and sparks on my fingertips….. “

 

Looking down into the small stream under my bridge, I can see the Goddess Smile up at me. Acceptance. Acceptance of fate. Acceptance of understanding. Aceeptance of a will stronger than my own. I accept the lesson in time. I accept the gift and the knowledge as I turn and walk into the mist.

 

The dance was sweetness and light. I choose to remember only the good and take that with me as I ride into the winds. Echo’s of the timber of his voice on the wind for me to wait my journey and I can’t. I can no sooner pull down the stars from the sky and change his existence even if I could. We are all the directors and authors of our own stories. We all ride our rides under our own sails. We fight our own demons and shape our own adventures. Happiness and love is begot from within ourselves and not from another and each of us comes to make peace with ourselves within our own time. His inability to use that bridge to traverse the precarious valley that split us is something he has to come to terms with. Unfinished business possibly… grin. His own journey.

 

Ahhhhh but the our Tango…. Lol… that I will think on fondly in years to come when its time to reflection of my lifes journey. This warrioress tips her hat and her sword to her warrior.... Bitheadh e mar sin, so mote it be.

 

Thank-you dark angel for letting allowing me to once again feel the wind beneath my wings. To feel, see, hear, smell and taste all the nuances of the magical world we live in.

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Thank-you BrokenBird... Truth is stranger than fiction isn't it.

Its fiction after all.... like Shakespearn romantic tragedy....not that mine was written in verse or anything..... I've often wondered where WILL drew his creativity from.

 

Fallen.... alas, sometimes stories don't always end the way we'd like them to. The story was of course written in the first person and drawn from a source other than myself. It's fiction of course... a fairy tale... a dream scape... started that way... ended that way. The Heroine and Hero of the tale returning to their realities, every day issues, every day lives, and returning to wishing their lives away...praying for friday's to hurry up and get here. lol.

 

Well... not entirely the same... returning back into the tangle and chao's...but maybe with a small spark of magic nursed in the breast. lol.

 

But thanks for the compliment and for taking the time to read.

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Fallen we all want our dreams, however, it's the reality we have to deal with before that can happen, e.g. sorting out our personal baggage before we can move on. Making our lives financially secure before moving onto the next person. Tying up loose ends e.g. getting the divorce papers before committing ourselves, making sure any children involved are ok. Especially financially and emotionally.

 

I agree that we all get impatient and want everything to happen 'NOW', but if we love someone with every fibre of our being then we don't ever want to burden them with insecurities and unresolved relationships. Going into a new relationship with these problems still hanging over our heads causes trouble with our new partners/spouses and the relationship is doomed from that moment on.

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