Gonzalo Adolfo
There Is Light
from Golden Rushes:
There is light. A hot panting sun pushes itself up and rolls into position. There is light. A light sky receives its heavy friend as old as itself. There is light. A land that cooled kicks sleep out and thinks finally or not again depending on how it feels about the big guy. There is light. The passed out creatures of the earth catch the rays of another day warmth and whistle if they can and yawn if they can. There is light. The always near sea raises a wave to the warming air from its warming surface. There is light. The town below and stretching around less than the eye can see rolls again its shadow over. There is light. And the houses of the people for few people can be seen directly take on the roof the heat of the sun and through the window the light of the sun. There is light.
The day has begun and the morning comes and the warmth the light the sun—warming and brightening with the hour—sees especially one special house and through the glass passes onto a corner of the counter, the floor, a leg of the table. Some items have been left out, tossed and tipped on their side, and others have been tidily put away and in the kitchen for eating there is not much to eat but a breakfast can always be scrambled together. For the other meals, they may have to go out. The rising shine passes over the nourishment and down a short hall where the little that can peeks under the door. Here it mixes with what made it through a tight window shade and here the light of the sun stops in its tracks and looks. It is the sweetest room in the world, for him for her, the only place at all.
There is a kiss. Zerron receives it softly on the lips with her lips and again they bury themselves in each other. They can feel their body stretching their muscles yawning but they hold tight to continue their night. Their bed is a good cozy warm. A kiss on the shoulder, a squeeze of the arms—they are lost in each other’s skin, the sun is ignored. Life is beauty in beautiful moments—prolong them.
Across the town the hour turns and the kitchens are receiving more than their fair share of sun but most of the inhabitants in most of the beds are still closed. They have not slept enough and certainly not dreamed enough and they roll over where it is darker for another round. Maybe this time if I could fly or maybe…That person I work with…Heh heh heh…The snores reissue. It is before morning, before the work and tire for most and dreams still permeate. There are breakfasts to come.
And in the little sweetest room in the world, into each other’s eyes they are looking. The bit of light that peeks in is enough to make out what they wish to see—the eyes I know, the dreams therein, the wishes I wish. They barely move, they hardly breathe. No words, no kissing. They woke from a dream to a dream. Some days are good and some days pass. But those eyes nourish. He brushes her hair back from her ear and smiles halfway and whispers something that sounds like I have to go.
He lifts the covers off himself and sits up, stays a moment, then stands. He looks to her and she looks to him. Silent words. He turns, she watches…A man she did not think she would meet, a man she did not think she would know. She looks at him and wonders…A few more moments and he returns to her side and sits. His skin is now covered as it was when he arrived, she remains as she was all night. They look toward each other but away…Time was on their side but shortly. Fate was theirs for them and passed. What to do with the remaining moments…Love was there, love is eternal…
He reaches and takes in his hands her guitar that was sitting nearby and holding it pauses in a sigh. There are so many things to say and no words to say them. He turns and looks to her for the answer. She smiles halfway and hugs her pillow. She is ready. He looks away. His eyes feel closed though they are open. Sightless, thoughtless—he looks, rolls and scans around the room to notice something but registers nothing until he ends looking down to his hands and his lap, he rests…Now…He remembers…
He sits up tall and pulls a soft chord from her guitar. It is mostly in tune so he plays a slow bass line that rises then down it slides and bounces into a gentle chord. The rhythm set, he goes on and on into a song of bass notes and chords, bass notes and chords. It has an easy beat, as natural as a short nap. Then he sings…
“Seeing her here now…as she walks…a gentle beat…harmless and mild / She’s my angel…on and on…on her wings…I am free / As I say…over and over and over again…she grows on my mind…like nothing I know”
This is their goodbye. The guitar he sets aside and he kisses her forehead and her lips. It is time to go. At the doorway he turns to look at her again, a blanket covers most of her. He can see enough to know that he does not want to go. He should hug her again, he should kiss her again. He knows they have more music, he knows they have more of everything. And just as he is certain he does not know what to do, somehow he leaves.