Hunger Pangs
Thursday, February 1, 2007 at 05:22PM It’s starting again, I can feel the beginning rumblings of that old familiar hunger. Years ago I might have resisted or simply shut down my mind to the ravenous pangs, but I’ve learned better. Resistance is no good, no good at all. It only puts off the inevitable giving in.
Oh, what hunger is this that it rouses me from my sleep, luring me drowsily to the thrumming of that old familiar longing? Deliciously it draws me from my slumber to seek its fulfilling. Or it clutches me suddenly while going about my daily business, whispers like the voice of a long-lost friend of the pleasures of submitting to its seductive pull.
How this hunger smites my heart! As it washes over me in waves I feel my knees weaken, my pulse accelerate. Wild with wanting, I turn neither to the left hand or to the right. With eyes wide open or closed in gentle submission, I give in to the rightness of it. Perhaps the waves are the result of gazing into the face of a newborn, or marveling over the beauty of winter’s first snowfall. No matter. My darling, my desire, my beloved, my heartbeat, my longing lures me amid the humble circumstances of life, draws me from lofty contemplations and tearful sighs. Romances me from the checkmated dead-end of broken dreams, alluring me from all (whether good or bad) that would divide my heart.
And so the hunger begins or, more accurately, returns. Lulled by the false securities of this world I am often slow to respond to a hunger which builds slowly, almost delicately. Insistent in its own way, yet it will not shout to drown out the other loves pulling at me. I am free to steel myself against its deluge, free to choose another pathway or voice. What madness is this that will not let me go? Oh desire, oh hunger, stay with me one hour, one darkling night, one season of keen burning need. Walk with me or draw me or whisper—-only, don’t leave me to myself with only the empty shell of spurned desire to comfort me in those lonely awaiting hours.
And so the hunger returns and I must rise to meet it, to inquire of those I meet along the way, “Have you seen him who my soul loves?”
Wow, this is awesome. It had me by the seat of my pants waiting to see who it you crave, or what. At first I thought it was just a cigarette. I know, not really fitting, but right now that is what is calling me.
that was beautifully written hon! song of songs, written in the tongue of today. and it just lights fires in every one who reads it, as if to light a series of fires to light a path in the darkness.
kïrstin♪