I Dreamed A Dream

Last night, I dreamed a dream.  In that dream there was a man, tall, dark and desperately handsome and of Spanish blood.  With a swimmers build and a dark Mediterranean complexion he first appeared across the way while I was buoying in a pool.  He caught my eye but I feigned an arrogant disinterest, until he walked around the pool to where I sat in the water and he stood over me.   He knelt down and, oh, oh so gently he kissed me.  I thought he was Adonis himself, Eros, the son of Aphrodite, goddess of Love.  He was possessed of such a beauty as to be utterly intoxicating...and I was so intoxicated with him.  I was aware that my head was swimming in the clouds and rather than invoke my  mind to employ reason and cast him away, I swam in those clouds, drunk with the beauty that he radiated.

And though the sun rose and night gave way to day and the dream evaporated back into the magical mist from which it was born, he, my Adonis, has walked with me all day in my thoughts.  So potent was his presence that it has not been easy to dispel.  It has been pleasant, though, to momentarily lapse into that special state where I again feel him bend over, blocking out the sun, to kneel and kiss me as if I, I alone had been set aside for him.  I had a highly productive day at work today, but it was a wonder I was able to accomplish anything, walking around in a hangover from his indelible beauty with his kiss still lingering on my lips.  I am a dreamer and this was the dream I dreamt.   At intermittent occasions my dreams favor me with a sensation or an impression that simply leaves me in a stupor that I selfishly indulge in and refuse to let go of.  I force myself into the halls of my memory and there I linger for as long as the Stewards permit.

At odd intervals in the day I have wondered could this god be real, this Spanish conqueror of my heart.  My mind then intrudes and bids me return to reality and know such a creature could not be real,  nor should I desire such a thing.  For in his presence I was obliterated by his beauty, I was simply an automaton standing at his side taking in every drop of him.  I suppose I enjoyed such a thing because life can be tired.  Often it is full of struggle and strain.  It can be good to have a small island of hope or destination of ease and luxury where the heart and soul can replinish its nature and regain strength.  I found such an island last night.  And though I know  my lover's presence will diminish as the days slip by and his beauty be but a fading impression,  I am thankful that I have found favor with the dream gods that I experienced such unerrying beauty.

I AM...

I am the "love that dare not speak its name".  Carefree and youthful I roam the world of men causing them to embrace each other in the bond that moves beyond simple physical embrace.  I have seeped into their hearts and there lit the fire of love that they may know each other with an intimacy that surpasses physical lust.  Those who respond to my touch I have set aside and call them my own.

For Love, when It issued forth from the creator gave birth to my nature among men but I was overwhelmed by my twin who lit the the hearts of men and women aflame, a flame that was greater than mine and caused me to shrink back, making my flame feeble and unsure.  But Time, which matures all things, touched my little flame and the strength gained from those marching ages augmented my nature.  Now, I burn with greater passion, my light glows with an intensity which blinds the those who have been lying in cracks and crevices hoping to extinguish my flame. 

No longer feeble and prostrate I burn brightly in the hearts of my subjects who honor me in the world of men by expressing their love of each other.  Masculine upon masculine, feminine upon feminine, these two natures compounded upon each other create a flame unlike that of my twin whose two natures, masculine and feminine, create a flame of dual color, beautiful in its own right.  But my flame, of a single intensity because its nature has not been separated, but compounded shines with a brightness unlike any other.

I am the love between men, I am the love between women.  I ignite the passions, I light up the arts, I emblazen civility, I inflame knowledge in the minds  of my bearers and on the wings of love I alight to the sweetest strains of the lovers' song.  I, I am...Gay.

Halcyon Days

When I was still a child of about seven, my first step-father died a tragic death.  While burning weeds in our yard, he caught fire.  He ultimately died of pneumonia in the hospital.  After his death, my mother experienced a rejuvenation-I could tell she was different, felt different! It had been as if a light had suddenly broken through our cloudy lives.  Even I as a child felt a certain freedom, as if I was no longer being watched and could roam around freely. 

It was these days that were filed with my roaming around our yard, capturing poor little insect and maliciously tearing them apart, joint by joint.  One such insect, a bee, got its revenge:  when I tried to capture it, something went horribly awry and the insect's stinger got lodged in my thumb!  I will never forget what a terrifically devasting pain that stinger gave me.  It was so painful I could not dare pull it out myself.  I ran around the yard screaming my head off and finally ran to my mother to pull the darn thing out.  I think I left the insects alone after this.

I was a terribly pensive kid, given over to spending blocks of time alone, wandering around the yard exploring things.  I remember times lying in the yard on the grass (we had a pretty good size yard in those days) on lazy afternoons soaking up the sun.  I think this was before I realized black folk were not supposed to lie in the sun, at least not without blackening further like ribs on a barbeque grill.  But it was such a delicious feeling just lying there letting the sun penetrate my senses, letting its warmth wash over my little body.  We lived in Fayetteville, North Carolina then, before my mother met my second step-father-a military man, and we started traveling.  There was plenty of sunshine then!

It was during this time that I discovered my love of reading.  The school library was a heavenly place to me, filled with untold riches just waiting to be discovered.  What pure joy it was to sit and be carried away by words strung together in such a way as to entrance, enthrall and enchant!  Being such a solitary kid, reading was a delightful escape and sanctuary, a place where I needed no adult to escort me, guide me or watch me.  I could get lost in my own imagination, roaming around the sensational corners in my mind, discovering hidden joys and delicate sensations.  Sometimes the words, the sentences and paragraphs awakened things inside me, things which I could not have known but seemed at times to be vaguely familiar with.  I had a lot of deja vu in those days as a child.  I did not know if I had been places and experienced things or if I was simply imagining things.  It actually did not matter-it gave me pleasure, either way!  Reading is so important in a child's life,  though my mother never read to us as children, were I to have children I would make reading an integral part of their little lives.  Those early years are so important.  Aany activity that you can share with your child where you have the opportunity to bond, cannot be taken too lightly!

I remember specifically, in those days that something happened where the school buses stopped coming into our neighborhood.  All the other kids received rides from the parents.  My mother did not take me to school.  I had to walk to school.  It was probably about a mile from our home to the school that I walked every day.  During those walks, like most little kids, I suppose, my mind wondered as I made my way to school.  In reflection, sometimes I think Life has conspired to make me a single, solitary creature, chasing the silences of solitude.  I started walking to school rather young, probably seven or so.  And I walked all the way through high school!  Even when we moved to Germany, the walk to school was probably the same distance, about a mile.  And I too, walked it alone.  I would wait for the swarms of students to pass and then set out on my little solitary journey. 

Those Halcyon days are filled with so many memories for me, so many pleasant thoughts that sometimes intrude upon my day to remind me that things were beautiful for me once, that I was a child, that my childhood was not THAT bad!  I like to hold on to those moments filled with memories like my first bike, my little red wagon, my first pair of roller skates (which back in the 70s were death traps!), fruit and nuts in our Christmas stockings, the first day of school (I loved school back then and I was always some teacher's pet), these are the things that I have been drifting back to lately.

 I have said here before on my previous blog that I feel like I am starting the second part of my life, so these reviews, these pensive strayings and meanderings have been necessary, I feel.  I do not ever want to forget my life, no matter how difficult I may feel it has been. But I want to remember it all and to someday summon the power to resolve it into one glorious equation where all the parts have their place and I understand those parts and the necessary presence of them in my life.  I will use this glorious equation to construct what I will ultimately become!