Natasha's Love Letter
Steven Van Hook
What is the language of the heart? Not English. Not Russian. Not any tongue, more meant to cloud than clarify the soul's intent.
When we lie together, quietly, after the passion is calmed, you must certainly feel my heart, my soul, whispering its message to yours. Do you hear it? Does it speak the words you understand? Do you believe there is more to be seen and heard, beyond the range of eyes and ears? I know it is true!
Listen, my love. Eternity also speaks in silence, enveloping the beloved in timeless truth. Do you hear it?
Time and place banished, their illusory limits eclipsed by the transcendent light and sound so afar from the frail and feeble senses. Here is where dreams come from. It is real! It is real!
You and I are one. Small waterdrops flowing beside in the universal sea of all creation. Apart, together; such words without meaning in the great ocean where all is one. Do you feel it?
Take no sorrow from our partings, only joy from our union. Long after our bodies are dust will I hold you in my heart, my enduring heart. You are a part of me, I a part of you, we a part of forever.
When I hold you, I hold all that is perfectly eternal. When I gaze into your soul, I see all that is gloriously true. My heart pounds in rapture! In you, I hear angels singing. Kissing you, I taste heaven's nectar. You are my crystaline window, through whom I may see God. Do you believe it?
Please forgive my words, the foolish words from my breath, those from my hand. They are words that yearn for meaning in a hopeless quest. Listen, instead, to my heart, that dances over this page, between the letters while laughing at them, that feeds through your blue spangled eyes to the core of your soul.
Listen, my love, to my love; to love's language everywhere the heart turns its mystical ear. Do you believe it?