“Come with me” he said, and me wanting always some adventure, some new kind of experience, reached for his outstretched hand and followed him into the grove.
I’d never come this far before. There’d never been any reason to, but walking down this trail with him by my side seemed natural, organic, almost like it was destined.
He wasn’t much older than I, but he moved with an easy freedom I found myself reflecting. His movements were fluid and strangely intoxicating. I kept trying to wrap my mind around his footsteps, but the understanding seemed to evade me. At times I thought I was dreaming, time would speed up then slow down… and there was that curious taste of brown sugar on my tongue.
We moved down the narrowing path, past the pond, under a bridge, through the patch of trees, round a corner, then another and finally entered a small clearing. Jutting out in the middle was a large chunk of bedrock. He let my hand go and we made ourselves at home, settling into the rhythm of nature. We spoke no words, and in the meditation of our silence, he leaned over and started doodling in the dirt with his fingers.
Light and shadows danced around his body. Bent over like this, I felt I was seeing him for the first time. He started to hum some strange otherworldly melody, encouraged by crickets and frogs. Some sound must have also escaped my lips because he stopped, and turned to look up at me.
Our eyes met. It seemed in that moment, surrounded by foliage and moss and moonlight, we were facing each other naked and beautiful as the day we were born. No walls, no pretense, no distinction.
What the birds and the bees would have witnessed, had they been interested, were two teenagers sitting on earth stone, deeply connected while all around them flowers blossomed.
Listen to the Poem