True beauty dwells in deep retreats,
Whose veil is unremoved
Till heart with heart in concord beats,
And the lover is beloved. - William Wordsworth

O, come, summer, o summer swell, see the summer sea. Time flows full, rushing-coursing-listening, streamsofthought shaking silences that tear through meaning like squalls signing serenity. Spring spring to summer’s peak, summer speaks, seek — each of us, you-and-me, an eternity intertwining eternity. Let me kneel at our bedside temple, the oakwood cocoa that sparkles rococo in the amberlight maze of candlenight. I speak, gently gently, and embrace every-coming-dawn, here and here again, rising from bed and falling to song, again-and-again in eternal return with you. You, you, you — my darling you, my dear sonnet, my Katie. Hold my hands tenderly, my fingers fitting perfectly with yours, wabi-sabi the water of life that sculpts our en-home-ing. Closely closely, the tenderbrush of silk draws my hair tilt and unravels delicate the honeysuckle evening, orangeglow the rain reflecting (my love, my love, I see you in every moment singing). My lovely Sunshine.

Breathe. Tense-and-release. Stained glass, time fugues baroque and calls the shadows to dance. Among, among, I draw your sense — each impression willing the next, the soul of my beloved appearing again-and-again in melodic theosis. I dream, I dream. I see, I see. You. My Hesperus, my Phosphorus, my morning-and-evening star. Say a prayer to Aphrodite, balletgrace my evermore. (Swiftly tailored, this cinnamon, roll the mocha-light enjoy Inzoi imperator). I say your name to calm to sleep, Tzippora’s sheep olive oil the marriage tent; Music for Airports playing in the background, the first time Moses ever felt presence. The mountain ranges bear goldentraces, finchsight catches every falling star, a comet to wish upon, a stellar altar. Magnificat! My fingers dance up-and-down the coming-impression, silver rings that echo future-near. Sit with me here, my dear. Sit with me. Do you feel the faery breeze, lavender and poppyseed pepper morninglily the gilded leaves. Please, trace your name upon my palm and kiss our promise good morning, awake awake our future-together, our souls merging all-alonging.

We wyrd the worlds we dwell in, consecrating place in the dreamscape of our mattering, the polytheism of earthly-belonging. I tend my garden every day, my soul animating, unfolding time alongside you. With you, I form a home, the intimate intertwining of two-souls togethering, the doma. In this Ithaca, we order the un-time and un-place into placetime, a dwelling-with in which we plant and nurture self, family, and community. Our home roots deeply in its own cosmos, the world-we-tend: Ozarkia — a body en-placing the soul of each anima in the web of animation that forms its breathing flesh. Ozarkia seeds-itself as one patch in the great quilt of Gaia, the pluricosmos of earths that we sign as earth, the ground-of-all-life, the ground-of-all-being. This ground emerges from the energeia of Eos, the sunne, the center-of-gravity, the time signature of the cosmic song of planetary encircling, the solar system inhaling life and exhaling everything. But one more step remains — Eos is but one sunne among many, a note in the holy melody that echoes out from the infinite cosmos of Pan, the wild-growing harmonic architecture of eternity.

And back again (1-2-3), from Pan to the all that breathes within you-and-me. I love you, my darling, my home, my hearth, my loving-dwelling. I love you and I always will, my everything.

...love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity. - Elizabeth Barrett Browning