The Seventh Wave

True Love, my ancient fantasy… It keeps coming back, though Talking Self debunks it.  It sings in my dreams….

I’m building a fort on the seashore.   I love the sea, I want to be washed by the sea, but I must wait for the seventh wave, the strong one, the one that will court me in style, the special suitor, the magical one.  If I float away on just any old wave the magic will dissolve, will flow away.  I have some magic I need to concentrate, to ready for the special power that will take it and shape it to another level, another dimension, a breakthrough I can’t do by myself, but I can sense it, I know it’s there, I crave it, my soul yearns for it.  So I harbor my power, cultivate it, protect it, waiting, inviting that other power to match and meet and mate mine, to fuse into the new power that will mount to the heavens, that will explode this reality into a greater one.

Stone walls, beautiful walls of stones lugged from inland, away from the shifting sands, cemented in place with the magic of concrete made from this sand, from this place, with piers sunk deep for foundation:  fortifications at the seashore, doomed to destruction some day when the prince wave comes, when the right one comes, when Mr. Right comes, when he carries me away on his foamy steeds and I come, when all the walls come tumbling down, rock on rock on rock as the earth rocks and the waves wash over us and take the concrete back out to sea, leaving only a few scattered rocks on a swept beach, evidence of great events, there for those who can to read.

And in that chariot I swoon, dying to my old self, expanding into a new being, completed, matched, mated, my other half, now complete, nourished for all time by the overwhelming pleasure of his attention, his touch his care, his desire.  As mine completes his:  my magnetism, my need has fulfilled him, he is powerful because of me, he wreaks magic because of me, I am the field of his power, the vessel of his being.  Together we are chalice and blade, the dance of creation and destruction and recreation, forever and ever amen.  We create each other and uncreate each other and recreate each other and all the universe in us.

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