archives, poetry

The Long Hike — I Want Us To Put Our Feet On The Lonely Path.

 

Photographer: Dustin Scarpitti {dustyblanco.vsco.co}

{Photographer: Dustin Scarpitti — dustyblanco.vsco.co}

Dearest Love,

I want to go on a hike with you this morning. I want us to put our feet on the lonely path, where only silent trees and dampened leaves can hear our banter.

I want to hold your hand steadily when crossing frigid waters on wavering fallen trees, and I want your voice to steady me when scaling the shaky climb. I want to hear the twigs crackle beneath your feet, and I want to stop with you when you find something you wish to cherish.

I want to share with you my own sense of marvel, of miracle, and of life.

I don’t want to know our destination. I just want to arrive there with you.

I want to see new and familiar views with you by my side. I want to hear the awe on your voice when nature provides its miracle, and feel the twitch of your hand when see things that your heart just screams with joy.

I want to hear the love in your songs as we beat a path through the newness, and hear the truth in your words as you describe to me all that you see.

I want to rest with you in the most comfortable of places. Even the rigid stones of rocky fields will succumb to our journey. I want to lie with you under the sun, and cuddle with you under the blanket of a starry night.

I want to make love to you by a campfire with such intensity that it seeks warmth from us. I want nature to see us, for even the most loving of creations could use a reminder that man has not always forgotten his place among the trees.

I never want to leave this path with you. I want to hike the trail for as long as my legs will carry me, and then I just may crawl some. I want to drink from the bottomless cup, find warmth in the infinite fire that has always burned within us.

I want to cry with you, laugh with you, and know we share the same earth on our feet and same air in our lungs even if we have not always shared the same footprint.

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.” ~ Rumi

We’ll carve that in a tree somewhere, a tree that begs us for the treasure. We’ll get all dirty in the process, and then wash each other in the warm, clear spring that can’t help but invite us in. I’ll watch you play under that waterfall until I can’t watch any more, and I have to play with you too.

I’ll hold you firmly there, watching both the sun and the moon tease me in your loving eyes, and I will have no choice but to taste your waiting lips.

Yes, my Love. I want to go on a hike with you this morning. A long hike. A lifetime of footfalls and hand-holds, of muddy stumbles and cleansing baths. of making love in places most would not dare to go.

I welcome your embrace, your stare, your gently bitten lip, your jostled hair, your strength and your weakness. I long for your voice, your labored moans under the most pleasurable of efforts.

I’m waiting for the one I already know, patiently and impatiently at the same time. I want you to hurry, but at your own pace; I want you to arrive but not before you are ready.

Then we’ll begin. Not on the trail head of our journey, but on the trail-head of the journey that is us.

What a long hike that will be.

*****

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