Intimacy
bathes
in the
new found warmth
from
closely facing the bonfire of life.
Intimacy
is secured feelings
from some
unexpected
close
quarters yet
so
sequestered in a calming affect
and then
basking in comfort.
Intimacy
discovers
that your
breath is actually
the
dearest tranquility friend.
Intimacy
is in speech
among
friends that is not
the
primary language
of
agreement at hand.
It is
when
a lot is
getting done
and
nothing, as an effort, is happening.
Intimacy
is when there is a constant
up
lifting feeling yet no apparent cause.
It is the
shared activity with another
that is
of one common weave.
It is
when physical closeness
and
shared intention aligned.
Intimacy
is when
silence
becomes so poignantly loud
that there is a share
of the one voice, singing it.
Intimacy is a river of presence
close at hand
way beyond sensory account
yet sensory soothing.
It is a blur of boundaries,
a slow-motion blast of expansion
and multiple dimensions
in a cappella harmony.
Intimacy is the beingness
of your person,
giving your self-consciousness
a reasonable context to relax
and embrace behind the how of it all.
Intimacy is
the great aura-soothing acoustics
when your body is all ears.
It is sentences softly heard
before they are actually spoken.
Intimacy is gratefulness,
not in receivership expressed
but in animation of being present.
It is sipping the pool of self
while offering your ocean of being
for others to swim.
Intimacy is tendering
the softest plumage feathers
out of the knife block stance.
It is pregnant silence
giving birth to a basking
in glowingly endless moments.
Intimacy is rigor without edges,
smiles without physical gestures,
soft eyes given freely,
coalescence from unsaid intentions,
and mutual emergence
dissolving declarable differences.
Intimacy is a focus shift
from a frontal movie screen sense
to an in-the-pool 360 immersion.
Intimacy is being tucked into
a warm wrap of enormity
filled with spirit aliveness
of self-love, as a soft radiance,
effortlessly shared.
And, of course,
intimacy is an energetic presence,
the hum of it,
childlike in origin and heritage,
radiantly invitational to others,
and truly home to all
as a
conscious residence of being . . .
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