what paradise is
to wake to you each morning
before the doings of the day deliver us
to our poor, forgotten humanhood
two living souls floating freely
in a world of wetness, scent
sweet, flowing movement
to follow the pleasure map
stamped in your face
across the deep, dear, weary lines
guided by the sheer music of your hands
mouth, tongue, cock…
as you make love to me as never before
to no other woman, or muse, or nymph, or goddess ever
to renew our vows like this each day
to nurture our souls like this
to keep the core of us in this perennial eden
together like this
as the doings of life deliver us
to our long, winding, (maybe) separate paths
each night from our infinite journeys
come back to this smooth, silky
warm, soothing skin of yours
like the self-eating serpent
reborn through wild, multiple dreams
as I offer my ragged, strained body
to this healing shrine of yours
then wake to you each morning
before the doings of the day deliver us
to our precious, unique, delightful humanhood…
I remember crossing the Bridge of Lions in St Augustine for the first time. This bridge is a beautiful draw-bridge guarded by a pair of white marble lions, that opens up every half hour to give way to tall masted sail boats. I kept observing the openings and closings carefully, looking for perfect timing, for flowing movement, planning non-stop walking to the other side, where an unsuspected new world awaited. For me, at that time, the bridge was no less than the lion itself, which I had to tame to go forward searching perfection in life. Once I crossed it, I discovered Paradise... My running route was now full of trees, beautiful houses, colorful birds, no traffic, leading to the ocean... A flowing, quiet, fresh and blessed route, as I expected my daily life to be when I moved to Florida to live with Alan, in a new attempt to find my soulmate.
Yes, I never get tired of pursuing happiness... So I took once again this leap of faith, through the make-believe world of cyberdating, another blind jump into the ideal future. I came for New Year's Eve, very much in love and full of hope, and am still here...
I met Alan in a very unexpected way, through an online dating service, where I inadvertently kept a long forgotten profile; I wasn't looking for someone, being as I was deeply involved in a demanding and ruthless reality, taking care of my sick mother whose Alzheimer’s symptoms were getting worse everyday . We started to exchange emails, as I did before with Marcos , and than discovered new emotions typing online through MSN. The romance deepened quickly and here I am once more. Is Alan my true soulmate? Who knows? How could I be mistaken so many times before? Do soulmates really exist? What I know is every moment in my life is a sequence of the last, when I can use all the knowledge previously acquired. I spare no efforts to pursue happiness; where I see potential for growth, I follow. Cheryl White, one of my favorite spiritual teachers, used to tell a shamanic joke while coaching us: "the life of a shaman is really exciting; you see the signs and follow them; you are able to retrieve lost souls, to travel between worlds, to heal people... The only problem is you have to die first..." So it’s ok to die a lot of deaths, to be defeated sometimes, to withdraw as a true warrior, in a mere strategy to attain future triumph.
With Alan I learned that it’s never too late to advance, to acquire new skills, to add excitement to an otherwise dull, monotonous, tiresome existence. At 53, I discovered that having orgasms is like riding a bike; once you relax and learn the trick, you can’t understand how you couldn’t do it. I have been a fast, but late learner, I was 24 when I rode a bike for the first time...
Challenge and surprise are life’s tools to keep us awake, on the road, adding musical notes to this ever-evolving, hopefully harmonious concert we keep composing. The symphony is never ready, but rehearsals can be great fun and wonderful opportunities to meet like-minded travelers...
I hope you enjoyed this book; maybe you learned something here, identified yourself there, since we all have stories to share. I felt compelled to add this postscript to the American edition, in order to keep you updated with the most recent events in my life, the raw material of all my writings; to emphasize the work-in-progress nature of the Galactic Medicine Wheel, always whirling, ascending in a spiral. I met sweet Samia Makhamra on the net and we decided to join efforts, making this material available to English readers; Samia was a wonderful translator and partner but it was my pride to write this postscript myself, to share my soul in a new language, to reveal my sources in a different culture, to amplify my perception of the planet and its people as one whole living organism.
Diner is served again in the kitchen of life; the meal was cooked with new ingredients, exciting spices, some delightful, exotic aromas I found at the market around the corner. I had to choose from the largest selection of rices, pastas and beans I had ever seen, making the most trivial mistakes as any intern would; now I’m finally ready to have you as guests. Welcome and bon appetit!
Noga Lubicz Sklar
St Augustine, Florida - May/ June 2005
Labels: love, memoir, poetry