She said that the words of Pablo Neruda always reminded her of the love between her and her husband. Until she birthed him. And, then she read the words with a new meaning, a new perspective. Their son became the overwhelming extension of love that they know not how or when or from where. But nonetheless a love they cannot remember the life before when they existed without.
Partying (and sneezing) like a rock star …
And, I am grateful to Lisa for allowing me to post these. Three photos I truly feel indebted for having had the opportunity to take. Photos I believe are the essence of growing a family with the deepest connections this world is blessed to know.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
~ Pablo Neruda
