Get in the bliss of this. Get into the euphoria that breeds high among the wisps of gold cirrus splayed about at pefect dusk, where eyes reflect that look more beautiful than day’s end, and magic hour plays a quiet second fiddle to the orchestra of love in Nature’s vast symphony. Nothing more gorgeous than the way lovers view each other in quiet times, when the unsettled order of routines, errands, structure, demands and responsibility shake brittle rooms with the quake of loosed kettle drums and yet everything is silent there, in the frozen keep of union. There’s a reason Gods require adoration! They’re threatened by the bond, the hold, the caress and kiss between two that found true religion, devotion to the great muse whispering forever into the ears of every artist that ever lived. The Syssifissian climbs, the walls removed, seas crossed, risks taken: more than power and greed is this sweet motive. And it’s yours. And ours. And their’s. It’s the warmth against the cold, greater than any hearth and the light guiding more than any star or moon attempting to illuminate the path between two; a path to be taken as one. What joy fresh ardor brings! What comfort comes from the practiced commitment, where hands join at the summit of years and the world lying behind is in view as one vision, one lovely recollection of a life lived grandly and fully. The great gift of birth is that moment when our world’s wonders pale in comparison to this great share our hearts allow; that certainty of a silent gaze that blooms like a Spring bouquet for no specific reason, but simply because. We need no Gods to bless us, for we’re born with the map to Heaven inked by our blood on the truest map we’ll ever know: our beating hearts. Thrive! Embrace! Love! May the discord of everyday common chaos never offset the steady rhythm that beat, beat, beats so loud for you, that holds time with your other, that allows your song to sail into an infinity more beautiful than any book’s promise or any rule of science. (at Betrothed)