John Morgan : writing about him #1

Once upon a time, a time when I thought there would be time after times, John and I were walking through his neighborhood. It was night. It was not uncommon for John or Kimberly to suggest an evening walk to stretch about the streets and have an opportunity for the kind of conversation that arises when the body is active and engaged in adventure. Adventure is a key word for the Morgan Clan.
Anyway, this walk has silly moments, quiet moments and a moment that I write down when we return home. It goes like this:
Two mystics who love Brugh Joy and Maria Elena and all their Circle buddies and then, everyone else in the world and other worlds, are strolling. These two friends are well on their way to accepting themselves and many of the the dilemmas/gifts of being human including being at the end of the receiving line of blessings/curses from their ancestors.  Well, at some point, there is a soft spot in their exchange, a nearly quiet opening.
“Is this all there is? This Love?” he inquires aloud.
     “Yes.”
    ” Can you live with that?”
     “I can live and die with it.”
I remember this exchange because it could have occurred within either one of us as a singular, inner conversation. But instead, it popped into the air with sound and timber and two-ness. These unrehearsed and perfectly sculpted, scripted words pierced something. Like a the falling away of wanting more, the letting go of feeling inadequate or anticipating that things will get better or inventing a hope that I may be errantly entitled to. Here was a clarity.
A nudity. A walk without end.
I am so grateful, John Morgan. Thank you. I love you.
Ah, the echoes of Echo Park!

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