Affair with the Air

He greets me each evening as I step onto the porch, setting earbuds into place to deliver the soundtrack for the sermon I’m about to witness. I am always thrilled to find him waiting.

As I make my way up the street, taking note of the congregation of trees lining the aisles, picking up my step to the rhythm inside my head, he reaches for my hand and asks me to dance. Yes… in this church… we twirl.

He is everything, the element of Air. Were it not for his presence, there would be so little sensuality. His cool breeze caresses my skin, plays with my hair, and lifts my skirt (he can sometimes be cheeky). Air is the intellect that raises each thought of awareness of birds in trees and bats in flight. Air carries the sound of voice and cello that urges my feet forward. Air fills my lungs for deep breath and brings to mind deeper thought.

I giggle to realize that I am being romanced by the wind, and I know in my heart that this is what true love feels like.

He is just as happy to see me, and we delight in our togetherness. I look up to the night sky and see him reach for Orion’s Belt as it becomes a circlet of stars he gently places upon my crown. Then he pours sparkling champagne into the cup of the moon with an offer to quench my thirst.

Just to make me squeal, he causes every leaf to tremor and together they glitter like confetti in the moonlight. His breath is revealed in a gasp and a sigh. This lover of mine? He is divine.

Though we have danced together for an hour without sitting out a single song, we realize that we cannot remain in constant embrace. I have words to write and he has a chorus of crickets to conduct.

But we are not sad for our parting. We are eager for our next meeting. Until then, you will find me seated with a smile, in a reverie of such finery. I am having an affair with the air, and about who is aware… I have nary a care.