The Unexpected Water Lily

The Unexpected Water Lily - Damascene Rose Blog

The Unexpected Water Lily

Dear Body,

Please forgive me for I have become best friends with all the gluten the Saint Bread is made of. My body is in tension. I am like a rainbow spring about to release itself in the highest jump ever. I cannot stop eating bread.  Its puffiness and taste are calming my senses. The grand finale has approached. I have reverted to the wisdom of myself.  All channels clear, it is time to resume the journey wearing the true self, alone.

3rdMilennium  - Bucharest – August 2017

And her mom makes the entrance:

“How on earth could you possibly be testing food intolerance to yeast? Are you advising your customers to rule out bread from their diet? It’s the embodiment of Jesus Christ for God’s sake.”

                                                Checkmate

Hence, she thought to herself:

“My darling mazăr[1], you are one of a kind. Lak how do such ideas cross your mind? Cross my heart and hope to die if I have ever, ever understood your brain’s rationale. It’s part of my business, my work. What can I do?”

I am so bored of waiting. Besides, my business has been cut off by the Lord of Coherence. What a swing!

Make the move you blue-eyed. Make the move!

Just express yourself, go express yourself. Or don’t!

Whatever the course of the journey, have it come my way.

It is so grave I had to introduce the celery into the scene to balance the situation. I will have a green fresh salad for dinner. And make sure I keep hydrated.

Oh, Damascus, water me with the freshness of thy petals! For I am at the crossroads.  I have been here for the past 6 years. It is happening now. And I am wondering which way I am heading. I know that I am on my way. I am just very curious about His will.  For miracles have always happened when I expected them the least ...

Will he or will he not reply to my e-mail?

You see I had to write to him. That very instant I pressed the send button of the e-mail including all the documents of my life, my passport to Australia, to the country of the tender koala, an undefined “something” stung my heart. And it pained me! The thought of me, leaving my Country of Love, of setting on a journey to the Southern Hemisphere without having talked to him somehow stopped me. I had to inform him I was to set on a new route to embracing the koala.

Therefore, I also had to send him a picture of the koala so that it hugged him if needed.

For sure, the accordion of my feelings has been played like never before, right by the Bosphorus. It was magical!
This is the grand finale. The finale of my life and the very beginning of everything.  Hence I have returned to You, my essence, the wisdom of the heart. I feel YOU with every single little tiny pulse of each valve of it. I do. And though the waves of your heart have connected to the frequencies of mine so that whenever you vibrate with joy, sadness or pain, it trembles right here too, I am still looking forward to it.
Golpe. Tacon. Embrace and never, ever release. No!

I am very, very thrilled and excited. As I wander by the shore of the sea, trying to see you in every wave that wraps my ankles in its velvet foam, silk-like petals of the memories of you by the Bosphorus dance their way in front of my eyes like a dervish till they have reached the transcendental threshold of the deepest feeling. What a gentleman!

“I think you should sit there so that you have a perfect view of the Bosphorus.”

“Yes, of course.”

 

Habibi, which Bosphorus?  How can it be? Is this real? This is the very first time that I am looking towards this amazing one in a million wonder of the world and all I can see is You. Till now, the straits have been everything I have loved in this amazing city of yours. My heart had been crushed by the imperialism and narcissistic traits of those inhabitants, by the ignorance of that family of uneducated liars! And look at you? A sensitive educated gentleman amidst all these dark and turbulent waters. A vibrant soul walking in an aura of mirth, love, and compassion. Definitely, one of the most beautiful hearts I have ever been blessed to see shining like the water lily in these straits of primitive, selfish and greedy darkness. All I could see was your heart. I don’t remember anything else. A warm crimson light entangled in petals of velvet, of utmost gentleness, a balm tasting peace of mind and blissfulness.

There can be miracles


When you believe


Though hope is frail


It is hard to kill [2]

 

“You see the problem with our women is that they change after marriage.” 

“Only your women? Everybody changes. Everything transforms." Eventually, only love remains. Should it be authentic, it grows into a rainbow of thousands of colorful and tasteful feelings, of love and no hate, of passion and sorrow- sometimes, of ups and downs, and remains carved on the "elastic heart"- as the song has it, a jamais.  That's why they call it true love...

 The dazzling colors of the straits have melted in the infinite bluish nuances of the iris of your eyes. Have flown in a steady and balanced tide till they have made it to the depth of the channels of my soul. The delicious meal has been enwrapped in the flavor of your heart and the water in the glass transformed into an ocean of warmth flooding each orifice of myself and carrying me to the City of Jasmine. 

This man has got the vibe!

A man sensing ME.

A blue-eyed handsome who has seen my true colors, so that there is no need for me to translate my soul.

A hybrid just like myself.

He speaks none of my mother tongues and yet, he speaks the language of my essence.

You have watered my arid soul with your vibration, lifted my spirits and encouraged me to believe even more in my inner strength, in my “personal legend”.

 The first person of the male race I have ever been enabled to compare to my dear father and my beloved uncles.

A moment with you had taken me back home, amidst our garden of roses.

As I sit on the bench in the garden, I close my eyes and all I can remember of you is your aura of warmth.

The vibrations of the heart know no boundaries of language, religion, nationality or race …
They communicate via their own frequency so that whoever is not on that frequency becomes an outsider.
 They don’t have a clue of what’s going on between the two.
That’s why they call it “the mystery of the power of love”.
 And when the petal of love touches you, be in the knowledge you are about to go sailing ... 
1 (1)

Bucharest, the Summer of 2013

They were heading towards their flamenco classes.

“How are you today?”

“Grumpy! I am gonna hit the floor like no other…There is no love left out there, man. They are all for the money. All those asses are for the money and looking for the interests of their own persona.”

“There is love. You just need to have faith!”

“And what do you know, you ballet dancer? What do you know?”

Alexandru bursts out laughing.

“Ce să îți povestesc! At least somebody is laughing in the house today,” Shafak replied to him.

“You listen to me, you stubborn of Damascus, you are strong, hell strong. Ești tare, tare! And you will be loved. Even the dumbest ass of all will fall for a warm and true heart, eventually.”

They hug.

“You are just saying that… When I told you that child punished the dog for coming and loving me and put him in the garbage bin in his mother’s presence, you told me all the living creatures are drawn by love, except for male pigs. That’s how you called them.  You said they were pigs!”

“Yes, I know I did. And yet, out of all these creatures, there will be one created especially for you. A limited edition.”

“And when did you become such a wise man, my dear artist? Oh, love it! Let’s go on with our dance.”

“So what do you think? Will she ask Rosalia again how fast a village girl can learn el flamenco?” Alexandru takes her by the shoulders and guides her to the dancing room.

Ole! Gimme a beat!
I feel his heartbeat
Golpe
Tacon
LOVE MOOD ON

 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

[1]

Mazăr = mother with an Arabic accent.
[2] The song "When You Believe"- duet Whitney Houston & Mariah Carey, From The Prince of Egipt, 1998.

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