It is quite sublime the relationships between women and men. In one sense we are like bricks and mortar, one soft, the other more squarish with flatter surfaces and pointy corners that are not sure what to do with round softer oness. And the other, the mortar. That thick wet substance that adheres one brick to another it's pressed between surfaces oozing over the edge. Men and women forever dancing about one another, never the same but needing the same touch, the peace in romance and love, and the beauty of the mundane.
I find great delight in the contrast of the two. In the men who are raised to be tough but find much of themselves and their meaning reflected in the heart of a women. The contrast and epitome of they're opposite. So much beauty to behold held between their two hearts. In that contrast women define their meaning too. Men have the amazing ability to accept, embrace and set free the heart of a women in the spaciousness of their world. Unencumbered by consuming thoughts, expectations and emotions. Men are a home where we rest because they say yes and okay.
Then there is the sublime and ever inexplicable relationship of sex. The meeting place, the garden perennial, wayside and center place of our life. The constant spark of fire, the shooting of a glance, the twinkle in the eye and bulge beneath the pants. The sexual life is the life of wonder. It is the long exhale.
Dedicated to the one who makes my life complete. Alice g.
