Dancing only in our HeartsbySilverwolf ©![]() I’m dreaming, I think while sitting in my Morris chair holding a book of Kipling’s works. For eight wonderful years I’ve actually been in a coma, I’m convinced, weaving an elaborate tapestry of wonder and love unbounded by the universe and its mortal constraints! Never in reality could a simple flesh and bones creature such as I be fated to touch the pinnacle creation of the heavens, yet touch it I did! She, my angel, my fantastic gift from the fey, lay by my side with her little black head lay softly in my lap. But I knew beyond any doubt this were not a dream, as nothing ten percent protein synapse and ninety saltwater filling could possibly imagine such raw beauty as her. I’d not read a word of Kiplings great effort, though I knew the book at heart I had still intended to, but found my eyes pitifully attempting to soak in the celestial grace found in her delicate slumber. Lost to me now, Kipling found its way to the stand, and I stirred her soft rest with a trembling hand. Her wet eyes turned under thin lashed lids, and catching my own grew large and more liquid. I became, surprisingly, conscious of the music in the background. Willie Nelsons “A Horse called music”, his cracked, warbling voice teasing the lines of “If my world didn’t have you”. Tippy lifted her diminutive form to my shaky embrace and I buried my unexpected tears in her wavy white chest. Her small paws dug a return into my shoulders as she gently licked my neck and whimpered. We sat this way through the song, not noticing the tunes demise in the ether, the room a sudden vertigo spinning above my thought weakened head. Her musk filled my nose, her salt strong on my quaking lip, and I knew should God take us now, he could show us no deeper heaven than we found there, dancing, though only in our hearts. silverwolf "Site content and stories Copyright secured 1998-2003 Silverwolf & Silverwolf Industries" "E-mail the Author at silverw122@netscape.net" |