It was one of those days when moments crystallize like the antithesis of frost in the sticky sunlight of an early summer afternoon. Lying on my side in my hammock, a cool breeze slowly dried muggy sweat on my back. The sun had just dropped below the horizon of the garage roof, finally casting my hammock into shadowy respite.
Hanging an arm and a leg over the edge, my hand draped across the smooth stomach of my pointer lying on my sleeping bag beneath me. I caressed her lazily, and she nuzzled my hand every few minutes, sneaking a lick from my salty skin when I seemed to care the least. Letting my fingers linger for a moment over her velvet nose, I slid my hand back under her ears to scratch her neck, and my fingers fell upon the plastic clasp of her shock collar. As if so many adolescent years of practice had given my thumb and forefinger perfect memory, the nerves in my fingers fired before any thought, dropping her collar silently onto my sleeping bag.
Looking up to my face, she rolled onto her back, pushing her paw wantonly against my forearm. We stared at each other for a few seconds as the late afternoon breeze swirled tulip poplar petals around us in the grass. I stared into her amber eyes as she lazily gazed back, teasing myself as I always do, wondering what lies behind those eyes I love so much.
The flutter of a pigeon caught her attention and she was off again, chasing a more instinctual love. I watched her pink frothy tongue sway from side to side as she followed the birds with maniacal intent for a few minutes. Then I rolled over and closed my eyes, thinking back to so many days past…
Lying in the sun, our sweaty legs entangled, I stared through your hair into the shadows of your eyes. Waiting, we patiently stared in silence. As the sun sunk lower in the sky, the trees reached up into the light, casting dancing shadows across your face. Beneath a veil of cotton, my fingers danced across the softest skin while we waited for the breeze.
Finally, a murmur swept across the grass and swirled around us, washing away the afternoon heat. With simple surprise in your eyes, your bra fell to the side, and rolling onto my chest, you kissed me with the purest passion. Sun-dappled hair danced across my face as I traced the chill of the breeze across your back.
Why:
Dreams are powerful tools that can help guide anyone to success and happiness. They represent some cherished aspiration, an ultimate ideal of achievement.
The word sylvan refers most directly to a setting associated with the woods. Reflecting on the vigorous life that abounds in sylvan settings is a very powerful force in my life. For me, this word evokes feelings of transcendence, clarity, and unity.
A Sylvan Dream is a dynamic compilation of my life dream. It is an attempt to seek out and document the truth, beauty, and clarity that exists in this world.
The word sylvan refers most directly to a setting associated with the woods. Reflecting on the vigorous life that abounds in sylvan settings is a very powerful force in my life. For me, this word evokes feelings of transcendence, clarity, and unity.
A Sylvan Dream is a dynamic compilation of my life dream. It is an attempt to seek out and document the truth, beauty, and clarity that exists in this world.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
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