Two Birds In Flight

Two birds take flight, high above the Earth, as Mother paints her majestic beauty across for miles ahead. From below to above–two birds cross one another’s flight, in their own flight but exist within each other's. 

The clouds exist as they do, puffs of softness in the existing blue. Moister glazes their wings as the birds make their way through. To believe they exist in this magical flight above is enough to have them exist–miles high from existence below, two birds take flight. One conscious thought brings them into sight. 

Two souls in the night. The street lights paint the setting of their internal fantasy amongst the glow of the subtle brightness. Two souls continue along the canal pathway–reflections of their physical existence reflected back by the water streaming alongside them. The way he exists is different from how she will ever see his existence. The same could be said about her to him. Yet, they coexist in this moment sharing this same moment, as the two birds in flight peer through the darkness of night from above to below. 

It’s fair to assume that she was meant for him, but another might say he was for her. She grabs for his hand, as he allows it. No words exchanged, but only the simplicity of existing together on this path; no destination known, but to allow for the flow of the water alongside them to guide the way ahead. He takes off his jacket to warm her tender soul, as the chill of the eve overcomes the setting. The clouds from the earlier day descend as a dense blanket blurring their sight forward. He grabs for his silk satin handkerchief, and pats her damp nose dry. He proceeds in faith; she proceeds in believing. They proceed together, simply existing. 

She comes from a simple family. The oldest of a mother of two, with a father who was physically present but never emotionally. Going out with the family was on occasion, and paying her own way began at an early age. She wasn’t given much to believe in but herself, and the idea of something bigger than herself was of a later conditioning; her mother instilled presence the moment her own mother passed– “Life is short, kid. Live this one as if it's your last”. This forever stuck, and became her daily practice. She believed in love, yet was still yearning for the meaning. Wise beyond her years, because life forced her to be. Flowers bloomed all around her, as this is how she observed her days. The moonlight warmed her from inside, as she proceeded with him that night. 

He was intuitive. She felt safe around him, and he knew. He would never hurt her, as all souls carry a tender story. He reassured her “This fog is only temporary. No need to worry the discomfort. It too will pass.” She also knew this to be true, and knew to just believe and be. 

He too came from a simple family. Yet simple was different for him. He was raised with present parents, both together since high school. He was the youngest of three, the only son, and was given the smallest of the rooms of their custom home along the river. Mother used to hold their school lessons outside, to keep them all forever connected to nature and close to their Source; bible verses were read to him bedside every night until he transitioned to reading a chapter a night on his own. Faith was broken through hanging with the wrong crowd in college, and his rude awakening was waking in the subdued reality that existed beyond his truthful grip; it took waking up in the dark streets of London alongside the junkies and syringes of his last faintly painted memories before vision phased out. To witness this jaded reality brought him back to the truth he always knew; love was his new god, his motivator, and his reminder of how to live. Love was his reminder of something bigger, and his single reminder of still being alive. Love came with giving her his jacket and expecting nothing in return. Her scent soaked into the fabric, as the mist of the fog layer slid it from her skin into the stitches–a forever remembrance of her, once this night was to end. The irony was passing the exact spot he once laid strung out a past night before, as they proceeded down the dark, shadowed canal. The curiosity was her feeling his now sweat-covered palm interlocked with hers. Two souls wandering in the night. 

Two souls in the midst of a night stroll–a time of reflection while in the silence. This moment brought him back to those nights he was lost in turmoil, far from home, far from himself, and numbed by the substances in which he felt the need to consume, just to feel something, some sense of belonging, being, existing, truth; The shadows dancing along the canal pathway walls resurfaced the demons that still existed within her: the anger towards her emotionally-absent father, the dreary nights enclosed in her room, the detachment from trusting, the belief that the light was there, but yet so far away. She breathed heavily, and he gripped her hand a little tighter. To ignore these feelings was discourteous to existing. He brings her hand to his heart, and this calms her breathing.

Two birds in flight, proceed through the night sky. No trace of their past exists as the limited moon light left nothing but their physical form to present. Again, so in their own flight but existing within each other’s. Somewhat like the two souls below, enveloped in each other’s sincere moment. Yet, existing so separate from one another, and existing as they were meant to exist in that very moment. To coexist with something in completion is to simply be with that other something. The two below carried their past as the shadows following their walk; this defined their engagement and set the tone to their connection. Unlike the birds above, existing as they did, the two below limited a fullness of true connection without even knowing it. It's a funny paradox you see–in the dark, we learn to be with ourselves, as the darkness erases what’s around from sight, while bringing all from within into sight. Now, once the night was to lift, so would their past-driven shadows. Two growing souls in a physical shell.

A smile can be faintly seen across her shadowed face, as he glances, and shares the same in return. The currents of the water alongside their stroll go still. He leans in closer to her, hoping for the intimate interlock; surrounding stillness is broken, as the two birds in flight glide through the gap between their locked eyes. Once must remember to be patient–the right time will always come if it's meant to be. They make a mutual decision to follow these two playful birds in flight, until nighttime presented with the new day light. 

At a coffee shop she sits, grabbing for her americano as she takes a sip. Leaves from the trees around drop on her patio-set table. She peers to notice the array of rainbow-colored flowers blooming upon each branch, and lets a petal of one land in her coffee mug. She grabs for it, and takes in the scent. The fragrance brings her back to that flower-lined canal she had once roamed with him. She hadn’t seen him since that night, as they both had gone their separate ways at sunrise, both having let the chance of future engagement slip–two lovers entwined, engulfed in the magical moments of star light. She can't help but shed a tear in remembrance of his accepting, loving embrace; the single tear lands upon that petal now laying in her open palm. 

Two birds in flight, high above the Earth, as Mother paints her majestic beauty across for miles ahead. No trace of their past follows, as they exist only in this present moment. To believe they exist in this magical flight above is enough to have them exist–miles high from existence below, two birds take flight. A conscious thought from her brings them into sight, as she peers up. Like the leaves, or the single flower petal, something from the beak of one bird comes gently floating down–the new day light reflects the familiar pattern across the fabric. Just as he did for her that night, the silk satin handkerchief lands upon her nose, naturally grazing her damp nose dry. Another tear shed, as she embraces the one last memory of that stroll down that dim, street-lit canal. She can’t help but miss who he had been for her. The warming sun nurtures her soul. 

Two souls once embraced the night, as two birds soared above as their unspoken guides in flight.