Across the Seasons — Spring

Photographs by: Christopher Prosser and Shaun Schroth / Words by: Michael Shields ‘5.4.11’

Across the Margin, in coordination with Washington D.C. photographers Christopher Prosser and Shaun Schroth, continues its interpretations of the seasons through both snapshots and words……

5.4.11

You first knocked in the middle of the night, yet remained on the doorstep until the following evening, composing anticipation, inciting fear, fabricating confidence, compiling trust, framing hope, enticing surprise, manufacturing love, sculpting joy, and assembling wonder.

I do not know you, but I already love you.

I did not see that coming.

I slept through that night as the lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub of your heart echoed through the room.  The pulsating sound of your valves closing and opening like a patient turn-style, an overburdened exploited washing machine’s rumble that, over time, harmonized with the ticking rhythm of my core as I finally drifted into repose…..

I awoke, and you still remained on the doorstep.  Your patience awe-inspiring, contagious.  It would be hours before we meet….but the steady lub-dub, lub-dub, lud-dub of your heart reminded me that you were coming, reminded me that everything was ok.

I was never warned.

I was never told how I’d feel.

And then the knocking abruptly stopped.  The thud of your heartbeat fell mute and the room filled with fear, and with silence, broken only by a roar that announced to the world, to anyone that would listen…..you were here.

Your lip trembled.  Oh, how your lip trembled.  Shaking to life the realization that a steadfast concern for another would be a part of me, as whole as anything I have ever known…..as you were here to stay.

Your procrastinated admittance laced with layers of pageantry opened doors to enclaves of feelings that had sat idly, laying in wait. Daybreak quickly morphs into an adventure, a caper, as you mold simple challenges into feats of strength in a frivolous carefree manner.

It’s like you have been here before.

Someone so brave I have yet to encounter.  Naivety, innocence, ignorance even, words contrary to your inquisitive spirit…..and I know the truth.  I have searched far and wide yet the gratitude does not exist, and to who I owe I still do not know, as I am beholden that I have had the opportunity to meet you before I exhale my closing breath.

 

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