The Meeting Place

I woke and stretched and thought, Now I am done with it: Silence is just part of it, like it can be good for the time just before sleeping, good as you sleep. It can be like a warm towel around you inside the bathtub, and then I am glad to put on something proper and pretty. It can be the fitting frame around a painting that doesn’t distract the viewer from the art, the painting that has so much depth, can see the different highs and lows of that meadowland where the two people planned to meet certain nights just before dusk, and the two there, at moonrise. They could hear each other so clearly. Not humid the air and not frozen, they were in the spring they’d prayed for. They’d been given the season; they’d also found that spring in each other with so much to discover and give and receive. 

I woke with so much to say today, forget that quiet day I thought of last night. Walking through the morning, day and night, I welcome you, philosopher, artist, storyteller, magical one part mythical one and even more real than some people may think. There is a pair of books on that table over there, two new novels I thought I’d like to read, the lamp is lit right beside them. There are more, too in the other room; take whatever interests you. Have the food you’d like. I won’t worry you with asking again and again if it’s cooked right. There is dessert, two kinds. Sometimes I’ll just hear music and look outside at the same time, into the sky. Windows are a miracle, aren’t they? 

I tried to play the piano years and years ago, but my fingers didn’t move so much in time, and it was the same with the acoustic guitar, but I don’t feel deprived. I read Einstein’s theory that time isn’t so constant, isn’t such a specific thing, I’ve seen that. It’s not something that can spill out and disappear, and really, what could? Matter, they say, can’t be created or destroyed. I’ve felt like that’s a good thing though, like therefore, we have all the time we need for this conversation, and I am glad you came. Did you know I kept getting lost finding the meeting place you’d given me? And then I realized I would land there (you know my heart and mind have found the same space. They are both better for it), and so I’d just land on my own, even with my terrible sense of direction in the meadowland in the just new moonlight. 

I thought, it could be because things can look different to me one time I see them and then another. I might see something I just saw and think, is this new? Do you see that way, too, or do things look the same to you every time you see them? It is funny meeting you here somehow you didn’t look or sound new with words that were original and familiar at the same time. I found out familiar things can be very exciting, too, new and familiar things; in fact I couldn’t have found more exciting things to hear and experience really. I listen, there’s so much to listen to; I see you as you speak, undistracted but also aware of other things too, your form, speaking, thoughts, your face, how I place my hands: my palm placed comfortably over my other hand, listening, all together, and thoughts and speech all come together in conversation, harmoniously; we’ve arrived and it is such a happy thing to have done so, to have found the meeting place.

By Jade Nicole Beals

I'm Jade, a poet, painter, and yoga teacher. I live in southeastern Massachusetts and am from Brooklyn, New York. Besides art and yoga, I love nature, spirituality, music, tea, and a good party.

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s