To a Lover

Beginning with a letter that was first published in Finding Earth, Finding Soul, Mac's blog continues with 'Letters to a friend...'

Dear Friend,

I first noticed you when driving to Exeter early one morning. I had the window wound down and the cool fresh scent of spring curled around my senses, delicious and alluring. At our time of first meeting I was startled from my reverie by the brief image of curving beauty you conjured in my reclining mind. Locked inside the cocoon of my car and shifting gears as I approached the next bend I knew I’d seen something entrancing but it was so fleeting, so ephemeral. As I negotiated the next bend I was already doubting myself and discounting your tender invitation.

There were other times, yet I was always intent on some mission and no doubt repeating the familiar and tedious mantra ‘I don’t have time’. I cannot recall what transpired that finally saw me break free of my dull conformity, but I do know that each time I passed you I felt in some way soothed and loved. Whether it was the elegance and sweep of your green, gold, or red ochre dress, the implied promise of a scented embrace, or my over-weaning pride, I don’t know. With the mastery of one who does not need to try you spoke to me, commanding my attention, and finally I heard and turned to acknowledge your greeting.

It was late summer and the swallows were preparing to leave. I nudged the car off the road, switched off the engine and a soft quiet folded itself around me. Amber sunlight clung to your golden robe and with bare feet I went to meet you. I think I ran the last few steps. Looking all down your graceful length my eyes kissed you and drank their fill. I wanted to lie with you, to feel the surge and pulse of your heart, to touch your dark mystery, but such things have their time and this was too soon. One day I will.

Almost one year later something happened that both delighted and shocked me. On countless occasions I had travelled this road and craned my neck to glimpse you as I went about my business. Sometimes I slowed and parked the car so that I could enjoy a few more minutes in your company, but this time I realised you had another lover, and maybe, several. There, without apology and overtly admiring, someone had planted a bench overlooking your reclining form and facing you directly. It took some getting used to and I had to reconcile an infantile disappointment at having to share you, but I’ve come to understand that you have more love than any single man could encompass. You are a valley of unsurpassed proportion, a brushstroke of paint, a gift to be treasured but never owned. You remind me of my finer self, whispering the first stanzas of a song I once knew in lives past. You are the swallows departing for Africa, the vixens screech, the moon’s silver etching. You are the ocean caught in time, slowed yet still always changing, always moving. I belong to you, I belong to you, my beautiful valley.

With love
Mac

https://macmacartney.com/blog/2014/09/to-a-lover