The Kiss of the Breeze

The Kiss of the Breeze

         She felt the softest breeze on her cheek, like the touch of a kitten’s fur, like the beat of a butterfly’s wing. It pleased her in a way she had never been pleased before. She closed her eyes against the brightness of the summer sun. She felt the gentle breeze once more like the softness of silk. Her fingers tingled. Again, there was the whisper of the breeze. Pleasure enwrapped her.  Without intent, her shoulders curled, cuddled her neck as a thrill moved through her body. A smile from her innermost being rose to her lips; she was alive with anticipation. Her face turned so slowly towards the breeze. How she loved the breeze; its warmth, its smell, its tenderness, its promise. The breeze grew stronger and their lips brushed as delicately as a sunbeam passing.

      They had met by chance, though, in truth, their paths should have crossed so many times so much had their lives, their interests, been in common but they had followed parallel roads until that evening. It was an event neither had wanted to attend but duty determined it. A look had drawn them together, and kept them apart. A few words had conveyed more than either had meant to divulge; a few sentences told all that counted for anything. To neither did the past matter any longer. Only the moment was important then. They didn’t bid each other ‘goodbye’ ‘though each thought that they could not, would not, meet again. This would remain a brief episode to savour, nothing more; a pleasant ‘if only’.

       But they had met again, by chance, although it was the fulfilment of weeks of hope, of desire, and of longing.

       Somehow those few words on that first evening had been enough for each to know that walking on the downs was how each chose to escape from tension and necessity. The sun and the breeze had brought each to this spot on the hill overlooking the valley where the air was pure and thoughts and cares and yesterday’s sorrow floated away.

      She had been sitting quietly gazing into the far away when a voice behind her greeted her with surprise and pleasure. She turned and smiled. He sat down beside her. A sudden shyness came over them so that neither spoke, until words fell over themselves as he tried to fill the silence less she was embarrassed by his presence. He became tongue-tied and spoke foolishly about this and that; things of no consequences. Nonsense! - just to stay beside her.

      He stood up abruptly, ‘I must go’.

      ‘Oh, must you? ‘ she had said, hiding her disappointment.

      ‘Will you walk with me?’ he asked.

And they walked on along the hillside. Again silence fell and each was aware of the closeness of the other's body. The path took them through the wood and an ease came over them again as butterflies danced across their way.

       Without being conscious of a plan they found themselves leaving the path until they were at the edge of the wood in a lone spot where all around was loveliness. Reluctant to lose the nearness, caringly he took her elbow, no word was said or needful, as he eased her to sit once more, to drink in the stillness and the beauty. The harmony of the breeze, the trees, the birdsong, and the sun in the cloudless blue sky was perfect. There was no need for anything else.

      He lay back to bask in the serenity of the afternoon.

      ‘This,’ he mused, ‘is the moment I’ve lived for.’

An agreeable ‘umm’ escaped from her as she too lay back to stretch in the happiness of the day.

       All was exactly as it was always meant to be, as exactly as it should be in a dream; this moment, this person, this place; exactly as it was meant to be.

      She felt his fingers press so lightly on her skin. His kiss was like bubbles rising in prosecco, it filled her with delight. His arms held her closely, so closely she trembled. His warmth enfolded her. His kiss filled her. His kiss promised all she might ever want or need. She wanted to be nowhere else ever again. She wanted the moment to last forever. His fingers caressed her; travelled her body, spreading enchantment. His kiss grew stronger, more urgent, entered her being, as intoxicating as wine. She was no longer her; she was only a sensation, a quiver, a feeling without thought. Pleasure moved to passion; passion moved to worship.

      Their bodies moved together, to oneness. Their breathing changed to moans, moans to words, words to moans; whispers to thought and thought to nothingness; all to a joy with no description. Together they moved, they writhed, their hearts beating as one: they breathed as one.  Like the branches of a tree in the wind they swayed together, bending together like branches in a gathering gale. They bent, beat, struggled, together in the rhythm of their souls. In ecstasy, they travelled in the storm, thrown up on a twister towards the heavens till their beings were among the stars, their souls torn from their bodies, to where shards of shattered rainbows played. They were no longer alive but were other beings reaching to an almost unbearable height; something – somewhere - beyond life, beyond joy. A feeling of creation itself smothered them, until that feeling, itself, was almost unbearable.

       And then peace filled her soul. A peace like the sound of lazy waves lapping on the distant shore.  A peace like a breeze on a summer’s day; like the peace at the dawning of the seventh day.

      All was tranquillity.

      With a quiet sigh, she rolled back on the greenness of the easy grass. She looked up into the blueness of the sky. The sunlight brushed her cheeks like a wistful kiss. A small bird disturbed the air as it fluttered from the branch of the tree above her. The breeze whispered through the leaves.

      She knew the meaning of love and it would last forever.

      And more; she knew, too, the meaning of ‘delicious’.