Whetting Vows

When one is preparing to take a vow, to put the full measure 

of one's self behind a statement and a promise, it is best to

make sure everyone involved knows exactly what those words mean.

For instance, some people are uncomfortable in the presence of the divine,

but I am a self-assured, some might say graceful, heathen.

I can appreciate the beauty and majestic wonder of the universe

without being collared by this or that version of the story.

The awe does not strike so hard as to bring me to my knees,

the mystery does not make me tremble.

So when I say you are a Goddess, I am not trying to elevate

you to impossible heights; it simply means that I am willing

and ready to worship you for all that you are.

On occasion I can be happy with my words.

Usually if I write something that makes me say, "that's good," 

I almost immediately remember One Train May Hide Another.

Then I'm back to the blank page, starting again.

The rare occasions when my vision is not snapped back

to empty spaces, when I am truly satisfied, it is because

I have used words to adorn my life with thoughts of you made tangible.

Meanings become ciceroni, showing art in the letters' dyslexic gallery.

So when I say you inspire me I am not calling you a simple muse who

ignites passions. I actually mean you grant the possibility of greatness

to that in my life which is otherwise unexceptional.

Love is why the thesaurus was invented. It is so many different

things to so many people that even context cannot hope to contain its chaos.

Because of this fact, it is apparent to me that love is everything:

corruption as well as beauty, madness as well as joy, 

pain as much as comfort, god as well as godlessness.

Love is the universe explained by a language other than mathematics, it is 

the meaning of life distilled from all philosophy. 

So when I speak of love, I am not confining myself to the

sweet-as-a-lollipop dream any more than I am the dark and frightening

specter of obsessive need. Both live within love, so I mean both 

and everything in between.

The soul is a child of love, so it makes sense that 

it is almost as hard to be clear when talking about it. 

Most people wonder if there is a reason for us to be here, and 

how our soul might figure into that reason. 

It is perhaps our worst instinct that we separate ourselves from one another 

so much that people cannot fathom the soul as part of something larger, 

a piece of everything rather than the whole of each of us.

Fragmenting the spirit, making it an identity instead of an origin

is an insult to life. So if I say "your soul" or "my soul" I do not mean to 

slight you by implying that you are separate from me, only that the portion 

which animates you has been shaped by different waters.

We toss around the word "forever" as if we actually had a shot

at understanding it. Luckily what humans lack in scope we make up for

in arrogance and self-delusion. What first comes to mind when I think of 

forever is the moment between the birth of a child and 

the first time it cries out to the world. But relativity plays too big a part 

in that scenario for it to really encapsulate forever.

I suppose the best solution would be for you to close your eyes and think

of what forever means to you, and then multiply it by however many

there are of everything, including molecules, wavelengths, and seconds 

and then realize that all this doesn't even get you to forever's first birthday.

Then you might catch my drift if I say forever.

Once the lexicon is set and agreed upon, the big meanings

sorted out so all the lawyers are happy, only then can we get 

down to our vows. And with all the t's crossed,

and all the i's dotted, hopefully I can speak and be understood

as clearly as any man who has ever spoken.

Because it is important

Because my words are my vow

Because I really want you to understand...

You are a Goddess

You are my inspiration, and

I will love you with all of my soul

forever

1.9.09

manic