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Letters to the young poet, Virgil Letters to the young poet, Virgil
by Abigail George
2020-04-26 08:55:30
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Look into my eyes and perhaps then you can see the difference between infatuation and love. Perhaps then you can see my heart. Straight to the marrow of me, the prizewinning flesh of the heart and matter and energy that I am carrying in my veins, my lifeblood. Look into my eyes, and perhaps then you can see a part of my soul, the mystery of the world, of the entire universe in the predicament of my synergies and anxieties. Look further. Go on, look even further than that, delve deeper into the secrets of this universe. The modern day prophets and the seers call it love. The ancients called it love. The prophets and the saints. One day I will search no more when I find it. This love, for when I am loved I will be transformed phenomenally and enigmatically by you. The woman is always transformed in love. Take my hand, poet. Take my every sacrifice, my every belief woven into the phantom threads of this earth, of this world.

youpoee001_400Take my every living sacrifice until all is turned into redemption of my soul. The difference between love and infatuation, poet is the thinking mind. Poets are immortal, or, at least their words are. Life goes on. It must. It must. I can't stop searching for you, poet. I can't stop searching now for the poet in me. I can't stop loving you and being brave. And women all over the world are saying, I want to be loved. Men are saying that too. Humanity has known its fair share of loneliness, hasn't it. Said the woman to the man. Said the woman to the poet in the man. Hear all my thoughts. I am loved. I will love. I will return to love. I want to love. Let this spirit of togetherness inspire us. Let us become each other's muse. You are wanted. All through the ages poets and engineers and their drawings and inspiration that come to life have been wanted. And I think of you, Virgil, lying here, helpless in my arms. Your work is important to me too. It makes you so happy.

To see you in that zone, with that love affair in your heart and head as you are hard at work, it is plain to see, that it makes me happy too. I am happy. I am sad. I write. I write to reach the poet in the man, the poet Virgil. I think of all your dreams, all your pleasant dreams, and your happy goals, and your intricate-planning. I want you to be happy, Virgil. I want you to go on, to move forward with all of your innovative forward-thinking ideas, your brilliant, brilliant mind, your life is going to be amazing. For all that humanity is doing, all that the art of humanity is doing, is sowing a seed for a specific harvest, an expectation. We have mountains to climbs while time gathers all around us. The thrill of it all, the potential of it all waits for us. The vertigo of tenderness between us. The vertigo of tenderness between man and woman, owned by man and woman. There are no more words like torment anymore, did you know that, the girl asks the boy, with anticipation in her voice, in her thought, in her movements, in her brilliant and profound gestures.
The girl says that man's name, the girl turns into a woman through solitude, through introspection, through the turning point and revolutions of love, through her reflection, and she moves differently in the world, because she has the man next to her side now. And everything is a somatic marker. She feels the man's energy throughout her body, and even his smile has intelligence, and she moves like the light in the world now, even when it rains, and every kiss is a non-verbal agreement.

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Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
"All about my mother" & "Brother Wolf and Sister Wren"
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

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