awakening

“I am not simply a human being. I am a human becoming.”

SAMUEL AVITAL, Kabbalist

Twelve minutes past midnight. Navy blue sky hung prickled with tiny disembodied lights. Large, pearlised eye of the night hovered amongst them beyond the open French doors. Its cool, burnished light danced with the white chiffon curtains, casting a trail of eddying shadows over a monochrome room. Soft, electrum glow provided just sufficient illumination to make out two bodies lying in bed.

Heavy sobbing hung in the thin veil of moonbeams. An urgent, raspy voice called, “Honey?!”

Eyes, lashes gleaming with wet, glided under soft covers of flesh. I swung my head side to side. Slowly. Painfully.

“Honey what’s wrong?” But the distressed sobbing did not subside. “Sweetie!? What's wrong?! Wake up!”, a gravelly voice called gently, but urgently.

“I want to go home!”, mouthed my lips thick with sleep, voice heavy with tormented longing.

He propped himself up, “Darling, you are home!?”, he muttered perplexed as he caressed my hair.

I opened my eyes, looked around at the dim shapes enveloped in a weave of electronic red and pearly beams, droplets drifting down my cheeks one after another, “Yes?!… but, … I want to go - home!?”

His thumb wiped the trickle of distilled liquid off my cheek as I uttered, now wide-eyed, “I don’t know why I’m saying this??!…”, as I sat up in bed.

Deep was my longing for the land of my memories and the dwelling-place of my desires.

In the reverberation of this night I awoke from a protracted childhood. Childhood of a different kind.

“This skin is too tight!”, I squealed silently.

All He said was, “Time to kiss your soul good night!”