Early Mornings

You love the early mornings. You rise before the birds, 5am, often 4am.
As you climb out of bed, semi conscious, I watch secretly, lovingly taking in your shape, your movements. Your upper back is so rounded, bent over like an old man when you get up. I imagine you in 20 years time at the age of 76, fully bent over permanently. For now it is only an early morning affliction.
By the time I get up that protective hunch has internalised and you stand tall and straight. I watch with half an eye open as you hobble to the bedroom door, your ankle has stiffened overnight, the injury giving you pain.

After the retreat and after Christmas we 'll work together to get your physical health and vitality back. Some regular yoga will gradually realign your body and steer you gently towards a more balanced psychology. There is so much I want to share with you. I care so deeply for you Mark; for the rest of my life I just want to ease your pain and suffering, to bring light and joy and love into your life.

I fall back peacefully into sleep with a smile as you potter in the kitchen, knowing you will kiss me before you leave or be at the table on your computer when I wake later. You always do the dishes in these early hours, its your meditation you said. I stir in the half darkness as you approach the bed, sit next to me, and gently kiss my face. My arms reach for you from under the covers. I love you so much. How sweet to touch your face so tenderly. Do you really have to leave early again this morning? A few words are said - you are off to your studio. What's the time Mark? 4.30am. It's dark outside and the first bird sings a solitary song. Already I miss you as you leave quietly into your morning. I imagine you skipping lightly along the dark streets, in love with the day, in love with the moment, in love with me.

Other days I wake to find you at work on the computer. You've been up for hours, working on your art assignments, your research, your obsessions. I wander out, bleary eyed but grateful to see you still here. You kiss me awake.
I make coffee, carefully and with love. Just before it is ready you close your computer and move the two chairs around at the table so they are close and facing each other. We haven't tired of gazing deeply into each others' eyes, spellbound, we transcend this dimension. This love of ours envelopes our souls, binds us as one, it protects us within a warm cocoon. We know it is a rare, mystical and timeless union.
"I love you Sally Jane, SO much."
"I love you Mark Abbott."
Our eyes are ablaze with the magnitude and power of this love, we shake our heads in ecstatic disbelief at what we are feeling and sharing.