Morii: Holding On

Oh to step from time
To remove space
And allow me to encompass you
That I could exist in every moment of you
Past, present and future

To see your smile from across the room
Next to you
From your eyes
Every angle
Every setting
Completely
Perfectly

To seize every utterance you make and hold it precious
Hear it through every filter known to man
Perceive your voice through every ear
Discern each inflection that lifts from your throat
Every laugh
Every cry
Golden

To relish you through the hearts and minds of those you love
To feel their rapture in your presence
Let their thoughts become mine
To know how your absence from one affects the whole
And when you return, how their spirits soar

When I’m through
I will notice the tremors of your breath
Capture the dawn when you awake
Feel your heartbeat from the Orion’s belt

To see you fully
To know you completely
To love you more

Morii:  The desire to capture a fleeting experience

Copyright May 2017
Duane Windell Phillips

Morii

To capture and hold so I can again relive
Christmas Day as a child
Kissing the one I love
Sunrise
Sunset
Stargazing
A child’s laughter
Last moments with mom
My team winning the big game
Me overcoming the obstacle
Finally achieving my dream
 
Life goes by so quickly
Some special things cannot be absorbed
I pine while living them
Oh to forever keep them a present reality
To open the case where held and instantly
Be transported
Alive again in the moment
With you
 
 
 
Morii:  The desire to capture a fleeting experience
 
Copyright May 2017
Duane Windell Phillips
 

Muñeca

Muñeca means doll in Spanish

In the room where she is seen, Muñeca sits on a shelf and looks from wall to wall.  So much activity she hears outside the house.  So many things to behold but she feels the world passes her by.  She is not a doll children play with.  She is special and not to be touched.  Muñeca knows that is not how she was created.  It is how the house requires her to be.   Consequently, she wants to be held, touched.  How she longs to be someone’s plaything.    

When no one is looking, Muñeca’s spirit carries her to the arms of a child.  In her mind’s eye, the two frolic in green meadows and climb trees.  They love to chase butterflies and marvel at the beauty they see around them.  Their days are carefree and filled with smiles and laughter.  Muñeca and her friend hold hands as they watch the setting sun.  In her make believe land, nighttime doesn’t mean their time together ends.  There is no end to their friendship.  Time and space are not limits and the happy pair spend the night catching fireflies, but never hurting them, and gazing at the night sky.   When the child decides it is time for rest, they lie down in a bed a fragrant petals.  Muñeca beams with love for her friend who appears angelic in the moonlit glow.  The child is her best friend. 

Instead of this heavenly life, Muñeca exists within the confines of her real world.  She is pressed by the many dictates to which she conforms as she rigidly stands in place.  Though her heart screams to be a doll, held and loved, she remains on her pedestal with a face painted into the perpetual smile for all to see.  She is a good doll.  She does all required of her though her heart isn’t in it.  She knows the part she must play.

Suspended in the tension of her life and fantasy, Muñeca feels continually pulled.  As time wears on, the strings holding her in the balance fray little by little.  She cannot live in the manner expected of her.  Muñeca knows she is not a doll to be high on a shelf.  She has a heart full of love and wishes to express all of it.  She also cannot be a disappointment to those who see her and squelches such fantasies. 

Muñeca is two diametrically opposed dolls.  She is pure porcelain, never touched.  She is a carefree toy who loves to bound across the rolling hills with her friend.  But she can’t be both.  How will Muñeca survive? 

Looking For You

I heard you calling my name
Candescent waves whispering
I am looking for you

Heavenly love, eternal rest
Dulcet kisses soothe my spirit
But I look only for you

My spirit soared above an efflorescence garden
Sweet aromas effused and engulfed me
But I only looked for you

Climbing higher, your warmth bathed me
in oculus pools of virtuous beauty
But I only looked for you

Flowing tears rained once capturing you
Though in paradise with every want fulfilled
I only look at you

Copyright May 2017
Duane Windell Phillips

Dandelion Fun

When I was young

We played a game

And maybe you

Have done the same

Dandelions

We'd pick one out

Placed under the chin

Then we would shout

Who likes butter?

Then we would find

The color there

That would shine

Under my chin

We saw yellow

I was a glad

Happy fellow

(c) May 2017

Duane Windell Phillips

Lingering Kiss

Even today the image was vivid.  His lips were tangible.  The moment replayed like a dream intruding on reality.  It hovered off afar and drifted like a bird gliding upon thermals.  Convection carried it higher until it screamed to the earth.  He leaned in and she moved to meet him.

After four hours of conversation, her interest peaked.  He was a man with charm, wit and confidence.  His looks iced the cake.  A desire to kiss him surfaced less than an hour into their verbal exchange.  With each subject discussed, the longing grew.  A smoldering ember ignited a firestorm. 

Fueled by such an ache, her playfulness flashed and her face beamed.  This drew him in.  He couldn’t imagine a more alluring countenance.  Her expression spoke volumes.  Artists throughout history want to paint such an angelic being in this moment.  None would ever succeed if given the chance.  She could never be captured.  Mere mortals could only absorb a fragment of her essence. 

As the moment of departure approached, panic filled him.  He had to have her but not as a conqueror.  Can one ever conquer a flower and not destroy it?  His mind grasped at ethereal emptiness.  Words were pitifully hollow to express his heart.  How could he ever describe the swelling in his soul? 

Beginning a new thought in their conversation, she turned to face him.  The moment called to him.  It beckoned like a lighthouse to a lost ship in the tempest.  Finally, he saw the harbor and steered to her lustrous waters.  His eyes had been fixed on hers.  They locked on her lips.  Their fullness called to him.  A kiss.  A kiss. 

Without a thought he was trapped by their invitation.  He leaned toward her and she recognized the move for she hoped for it.  It was a prayer her heart willed skyward.  Eagerness drew her forward.  It was ecstatic rapture.  Drawn to her cheek, he caressed her tenderly and let every molecule of passion flow into her from his hand and lips. 

All cabin noises ceased to exist as the whole of her being focused on his lips and hand.  Her breaths met his.  The universe passed into another dimension.  All was superfluous save that moment and what she felt.  The kiss was white hot and seared into her being.  She began to weaken, lost into the power of his lips and hand.  She surrendered unconditionally. 

Then the spell broke as he pulled away.  She puzzled why he severed their connection.  His eyes peered deep into her soul, probing its confines.  She would throw open every door and expose all hidden secrets if he would but kiss her again.  He received the message and they kissed deeply, longingly. 

Time lost all meaning until he was gone.  Forever, she counted the minutes until she was again swept into the heavens.  She only felt whole when transported outside herself.  Only when her mind’s eye felt his lips, his touch was she complete.  Always did she yearn for that lingering kiss. 

#DWP

Will You?

Will you share a coffee with me?
We are one don’t you see?
Human and human just the same
Let us put aside the game
 
Mind to mind, heart to heart
It only takes a start
Drink in the love we hold deep
We can share what we’ll keep
 
Will you share a meal with me?
We are one and we will be
Closer still with each hour
Mutual love is our power
 
Heart to heart, mind to mind
We can all be so kind
To those around the world we share
All must know that we care


(c) May 2017
Duane Windell Phillips

 

Hope, Compassion, Empathy, Sympathy and Love

In my understanding of life on earth, humans are the only ones with self-awareness.  We are the only beings who understand what it means to be wronged and can choose our reaction to it.  We feel pleasure and pain.  We understand hope and despair.  To me, sometimes it appears we teeter on the precipice of a world gone mad. 

The powerful seek to divide and conquer to gain more power.  We are told who to hate.  We are to hate white, black, red, yellow etc.  We are to kill Christian, Muslim, Jew, Buddhist etc. That group has what we want so we must steal and kill to get it.  Sadly, many believe such rhetoric.  I have never met someone from any group that doesn’t deserve hope, compassion, empathy, sympathy and love. 

When someone speaks harshly to us, do we respond with hope, compassion, empathy, sympathy or love?  When we see one in need, do we meet them with hope, compassion, empathy, sympathy and love.  Do we strive to meet that need? 

Humans are the only ones who can read this.  They are also the only beings who can fill the earth with hope, compassion, empathy, sympathy and love.  We are the only ones who can change the world.  Let the flood begin. 

The Blind Beggar: Final

The clock of life moved tick by tick and Boulos grew weaker.  Pancreatic cancer had returned.  Doctors said they could only make him as comfortable as possible.  After so many miracles demonstrated in their lives, Amal was standing in faith another was coming.  She wanted her husband with her for a while longer.  Her hope was waning. 
Lacking strength to move about on his own, Boulos was bedridden for more than two weeks.  At one point he rallied and Amal believed it to be the miracle response to her prayers. Then Boulos declined quickly. 
On the last night on his earthly home, the family gathered around his bed.  There had been vigils for 3 days and each time someone entered the room to allow another to leave for a while, they believed he was dead.  Never a large man, Boulos looked particularly small in this emaciated state. 

Amal, Said and Adeline were seated around the room talking softly about current events when a noise came from Boulos.  Amal rushed to his side and sat on the bed next to him.  Weakly, Ali requested,” My Amal, describe the sunset to me.”

“But it is night.  There is no sunset.”
With more force in his voice than his failing body should have been able to muster, Ali stated, “I see a wonderful horizon.  It calls to me.  Tell me what YOU see.”

Amal understood these to be the last moments with her love.  She squeezed his hand and forced back sobs.  “The Mediterranean is more beautiful than ever.  I have never seen such a paradise, my Ali.”
“Y, yes, I see it.  More, tell me more.”

Tears streaming, Amal continued, “The Garden of Eden is in the distance and a heavenly chorus sings angelic harmonies.  Colors, dear Ali, such colors no eye has ever seen, illuminate the whole horizon.  It is as if God feels it a special day to paint the canvas anew.”
She looked at Ali, who was still, on his back and with his head tilted back. His breaths were shorter. 

In desperation Amal cried, “Damn you, Ali, don’t you leave me again!”
He focused his eyes on hers and whispered, “But my Amal, I, I want to.  Who could not want to go?”  Amal looked at her children who were crying.  Boulos lifted his arms as if reaching for someone.  Amal released the hand she held.  She prostrated herself next to Boulos and held him.  She willed life into her husband.  Slowly, his arms returned to the bed.  One of them was around her torso.  She was ever conscious of the pressure of the arm on her body.  That was how it felt whenever he hugged her.  Then she felt dead weight.  Amal’s lips quivered.  She knew he was gone and held the body tightly.

Said and Adeline cried as they moved to their mother.  Putting his hand on his mother’s shoulder, Said whispered, “Mama.  He’s gone.”  It was not a consolation to his mother but a means of expressing his own grief. 
“I know.  I want a few minutes alone with him.”

Said and Adeline glanced at each other not convinced it was the best thing.  Finally, Adeline said, “Ok mama.  We’ll be in the living room.”
After her children shuffled out and closed the door, Amal cried.  “My Ali, why must you leave me again?  Oh God, why must you take him away from me?”  More cries filled the silent room.  “Why couldn’t I go first?”

A bone chilling pain overwhelmed Amal and she wailed with deep sobs that shook her body.  Would she ever stop?  Amal thought that impossible.  Her love was gone again and no miracle could reverse this.  There would be no seeing him on the street or receiving messages online out of the blue.  This was forever.
Many images flashed through her mind.  She heard Ali’s laugh and felt his fingers on her face.  Joy and pain darted about her consciousness.  She fought to calm herself but it only made her pain worse.  With her eyes closed Amal concentrated on the room. 

She felt Ali’s body next to hers and the weight of his arm.  She heard hushed conversation and sounds of mourning in the next room.  Then, faintly, she could hear water crashing against the coast.  Amal fought to block out all else.  She got up from the bed and walked to the window.  She listened again.  Yes, she could hear the waves from the coast. 
Her view of the Mediterranean was always a source of inspiration and strength.  Then she remembered how her faith rekindled when she and Ali married.  God was still in heaven and she believed Ali was in a better place.  With tears still in her eyes, she walked back to the body of her husband.  It was the shell, the chassis for the spirit the just left for heaven. 

Still crying, Amal bent down and tenderly kissed Ali on the forehead.  Losing her love would stay with her the rest of her life but she would trust God had a plan.  In the meantime, Amal would mourn her husband.  She would honor him by remembering and savoring everything about him.  She would even accept the pain of his departure. 
Straightening up, she said with every bit of conviction her heart possessed, “I’ll see you beyond, my dear sweet Ali.”  Then she turned to go into the next room to be with family and friends.  Said and Adeline moved to her and the three hugged.  She kissed each on the head and whispered, “We’ll get through this too.”

The Blind Beggar: Part XXXVI

Forty three years later Boulos and Amal celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary.  Many friends and family were in attendance for a time of merriment.  The couple renewed their wedding vows.  Then, with all seated around them, recounted the highlights of their lives.  Starting from their first meeting to Amal’s marriage and Boulos leaving to find his uncle, they spoke of how God had orchestrated so many events over the course of their lives. 

Finally, Adeline, who was a hopeless romantic, interrupted and asked, “How did you finally get together again?”

Boulos smiled as he looked deep into his stepdaughter’s eyes.  “You know this story, my Adeline but I will retell it for those who don’t.”
Though his health was rapidly failing, Boulos told of their online conversation one night and how Amal scolded him for calling her fat.  The audience laughed.  It was a favorite part of the story to him.  Boulos was a simple man and enjoyed the humor and humanity to that one snapshot of life.  He would never again forget it. 
The two took it slow.  It was more than a year before they met face to face but their love only grew stronger.  The next year was still mostly online correspondence, text messages and phone calls.  Finally, Boulos strongly felt the pull on his heart and believed the time was right.  He called Amal and after exchanging pleasantries said, “My Amal, I am a happy man having you as my friend.”

“I am happy you are my friend.”

“There is one way you could make me happier.”

“Really?  What is it?”

“I could only be happier if you would be my wife?”

“Are you proposing to me over the phone?”

He paused for a moment, wondering if he had done something wrong.  Then he replied, “Yes.  Is that wrong?  We do not see each other and this is better than a text message is it not?”
Laughing and shaking her head, Amal said, “Oh my Ali, my Ali.  I would be happy to be your wife.” 

The early years were not easy.  The children, by then in their teens, were rebellious.  Boulos, never having children, had difficulties coping.  He never wanted to replace their father and regularly told them that.  Slowly, Boulos followed Amal’s lead in child rearing. 
It was Said whose heart first softened to the new head of the house.  After finishing college and living on his own, he began to understand life is quite difficult.  One particularly difficult day, he saw a poor family.  He realized that had providence not intervened in the lives of his family, it was possible he could have a much different and difficult life.  Then his eyes opened to the man married to his mother.  Once blind and begging for an existence, Boulos worked hard for everything he had but was a humble man.  He thanked God for everything whether good or bad. 

After reconciling in his heart to give his stepfather the respect he deserved, Said began working on Adeline to convince his sister what a good man Boulos was.  Boulos felt complete joy once the whole family became one in heart and spirit. 

The party ended and Said drove his mother and stepfather to their apartment. 

The Blind Beggar: Part XXXV

If Boulos had a doubt before, this reply cemented everything.  This was his Amal.  A sweet euphoria filled him.  Smiling, he typed, “You call me Ali.”  Then he stopped.  What did he say to her in Mr. Daiwik’s apartment?

He thought back to that day.  As he had a few times before, Mr. Daiwik invited Boulos to their apartment to bathe and eat a meal with them.  Then Mr. Daiwik was called to go to one of the apartments for something that needed attention.  Shortly thereafter, Boulos heard an angelic voice.  Somehow, Amal was in the room with him and Ms. Madhura.  Boulos wanted to see her and she allowed him to feel her face with his hands. 

But what was said?  It was so fast and Ms. Madhura said something about doing everything quickly.  Then Mr. Daiwik was back and Amal left.  Boulos remembered wishing, willing his spirit to Amal.  If only she could have heard his thoughts.  If only they had more time. 

Boulos continued typing, “I am sorry but I don’t remember what I said to you.  I do remember being in Mr. Daiwik’s apartment and he was called to another apartment to do some work.  You were in the room with Ms. Madhura and me.  You allowed me to see your face with my hands.  My Amal, I was in heaven seeing you after so many years.  Then suddenly you were gone.  We finished our meal and Mr. Daiwik walked me to the shelter where I stayed then.  I hope this is enough.  I am sorry but I do not remember what I said to you.”

After reading the response, Amal still had the slightest twinge of doubt but who else could have known about the circumstances with which Mr. Daiwik had left the apartment.  How could this person know Ali saw her with his fingers?  Only Madhura would know.  Surely she wouldn’t stoop to something so unspeakable. 

Amal began typing, “My Ali, I believe you.  How is it possible we found each other again?  My heart swells.  But I want to remind you you said I was fat!  Never tell a lady she is fat!”  She sent the message. 

She smiled.  Even such words from her love were a beautiful melody to her ears.  Her Ali was back.  Her mind flashed to earlier thoughts of never being married again.  Now her Ali was…. No, it is too early to consider such imaginations. 

Boulos read Amal’s response.  Feeling a twinge of guilt he quickly wrote, “My Amal, I apologize for calling you fat.  I was only saying what I saw when I saw you with my hands.”  He stopped.  No, he would not say any more about that.  Of course, she was a child and full of energy when he left when she was wed.  It is only natural someone would add weight as they age.  Even though it was true, he would not mention it again.  Boulos backspaced thru the last sentence and sent the message. 

The remaining hours until sunrise Boulos and Amal told their stories to each other.  Boulos was genuinely heartbroken for Amal’s bereavement.  Amal shared Ali’s joy at regaining his sight and promised to help with reading and writing.  Their time together ended when Amal’s children woke.  It was time to return to the real world.