return to me . . .

she is quiet spaces, a searching heart, and a body - a vessel, a tiny vehicle for the grandness of her own divinity to come to fruition. she believes this. she can feel it in her bones, as if the proverbial could be a feeling, as if her nerve endings could translate all the evanescence of her spirit into the physicality of nerve synapses. she is questions. she is the heaviness and the burden of awakeness. she is the burden of knowing there is more, of feeling the call to be more. this call cannot be ignored. so she searches still.

answers taunt her, gnaw at her. she senses solace resting just outside the blurry edges of her peripheral vision - something lingers there. something calls to her. she hears his voice, faintly at first but it sounds like shouting.

in all of her searching there have been questions asked and answered with silence. the silence is where he comes from. he rises from it, a graceful body on four graceful legs. from his mouth spill words and phrases - rhymes that satirize her, and she feels herself responding to every syllable. her body stretches and meets his words as they flow through the air, landing in her ears as vibrations to be translated into symbols and meanings.

"who are you?" she asks. their words clash in the air, her's poetic, his fierce. they spin around each other until there is a whirlwind between them.

---

"Oh Aviator, it's just little old me,
I've got many things for your eyes to see.
You're on a journey to where you don't know,
Take my hand and, oh the places we will go!"

---

his words dance balletically through the air, words that match his lithe body as it saunters toward her. she sees in him duality - a physicality of matter and texture, and the symbolism of words.

"can you help her?"

---

"There is much to learn and so many things to know,
First thing is first, let your inhibitions go.
I want for you to be the very best bee you can be,
The best bee to be is 'I' and not 'she'."

---

like a ticking clock her mind turns over. "i am i?" a tentative declaration, an unsteady realization.

"i am i!" i cling to this, and i cling to him, an interaction weighted with meaning.

---

"I've got many more things for your eyes to see,
Keep watching kind madam, stay focused on me.
The things that you seek will be revealed to you in time,
I am but a fool, dressed up in trappings and rhyme."

---

with speed an agility, he leaves, and it is like he was never here.

"7959962, please return to me . . ."