WELKIN RENDEZVOUS
Eros is powerful because the beauty of
Diaspora is in the orgasm of reunion. We were separated at first movement to
return, drawn by the force which first pushed us apart; the first maneuver. We
are inspired by arousal, influenced by the source from which we shifted. We are
forever meandering back to an amorphous wetness in the dark; eternally reaching
in perpetual motion for open spaces to fill.
In moments of intimate surrender we caught each other's breath - in order to
recycle it. Drawn together by a conspiracy between sagacious eyes two strangers
found nexus at a welkin rendezvous. Sometimes, while floating in zero gravity,
rhythm is barely audible, but on this night waters of ancient rivers braided
together and in their confluence was music compelling us to dance.
The dangers of dancing elude naked eyes but once music has entered the body a
primal choreography sets movement and patterns of pre-memory override
prerogative. Bent like weather had left us; we danced in each other's gaze forgetting,
for the moment, the stress of an unyielding universe. Forgetting, for the
moment, that we didn't know each other. In our exchanging interplay colors of
consciousness collided, leaving us vulnerable to perils lurking in waters
below, in orbits above.
On a rainy night; swirling with memories of distance and shattered beginnings,
two souls intersected. The fog lifted long enough for our eyes to connect, the
rain subsided to allow a glimmer of recognition, and then we spoke. Pugnacious
strangers sallied forth through apprehension, emotional triggers and desire,
combing a minefield booby trapped with explosives.
The illusions that kept us apart are time and space, they denied us economy of
presence, they denied us a web between our souls. I don't know what caused this
being to start in motion and separate our umbilical souls but I believe in the
undertow that pulled us together again.
In open sky, beyond the dark abyss, where time and space defer their prowess to
notions of zero gravity, the two of us navigate through chaos and language
unclogging the ethos, busting dams, unblocking the flow of serendipity.
J. Otis Powell
Minneapolis, MN