As the sun descended and the sky began to turn to wintery gray bleakness I headed for home looking forward to a night of relaxation. I can't express how much the thought of a glass of wine and a warm fire, a bit of soft music, appealed to me at that moment whilst sitting in traffic. Just thinking of the chores I need to do around the house, ticking off my weekend 'must do' list, getting myself organized so I can thoroughly enjoy what promises to be a great weekend brought a feeling of contentment. This simple routine, then time to relax and watch movies, read a bit, and hopefully, go out for drinks with friends.
I arrived home just in time to be greeted by the beginning of the night's chill. I shivered and ran into the house, my mind already consumed with thoughts of starting stew, a perfect warming concoction for what would prove to be a brutally cold, clear night. I seasoned the water and added the chicken to my stock. The house took on a wonderful smell as the stew began to simmer in the formerly cold kitchen.
I stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and humming. The words to one of my favorite songs filling the space all around me. A warm blanket of music that always softens the turmoil of the day into a wisp that evanesces in the comfort of home that surrounds me. Soothing my restless soul as we romantics say.
**I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles
And the heavens open every time she smiles
And when I come to her that’s where I belong
Yet I’m running to her like a river’s song
As the words rolled over me like waves of yesterday's warm breeze, I felt that longing once more. The longing for arms around me. Arms strong in my times of hurt, soft and gentle when I must have something to rail against. Yielding when I push. Strong enough to hold me when my knees fail under me. Arms that know just that moment when they are needed desperately.
**And when I come to her when the sun goes down
Take away my trouble, take away my grief
Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief
And now I am settling into read. Wuthering Heights. A book as stormy as my personality. As wuthering as the beating of my own heart. A book I know well and that has known me in all of my stages of growth and self-revelation.
Have a lovely weekend x
**I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic
** My favorite artist - ever
