Beautiful Pleasure

Once there was a much loved Mother that gave birth to a son.

He was beautiful and round and brown and soft and she loved him so.
He cried and he suckled and he smiled and he suckled some more.
As he suckled she thought to herself “I shall call him Beautiful Pleasure, because he brings me pleasure and he is beautiful.”

The son grew, happy in the shadow of his mother, constantly aware of his surroundings and gentle in his heart.
His life was like a train ride with some track smooth, some bumpy and some so rough that the cars seemed as they would be bounced apart.

As happens sometimes in life, the rough parts overtook the smooth and the gentle soul was snatched out of the son’s body, leaving only a husk, with no promises of return.
The husk was not allowed to die, nor was it allowed to live…exactly.

Through it all, the much loved Mother never quit her Beautiful Pleasure and the husk never lost all the oils that had once made it smooth and soft.

When the land helped smooth the rails again, as nature has a habit of doing, the gentle soul slowly resurfaced.
Renewed, and still gentle, but with a stronger covering, the boy sprouted and grew and survived and overcame and succeeded.
Now he was again beautiful and round and brown and soft.

But now he also had a fire light shining within him.
Sometimes it burned blue and soft, while other times it burned red and hot.
It wasn’t always controllable, but it was always true.

The much loved Mother, who thought of her Beautiful Pleasure often, but saw him not, was able to feel the fire light.
Most often it warmed her, but indeed, even she was scorched at times.

When she felt the scorch, she said, “My beautiful, round, brown and soft acquired a rocket that will not be tied down.”

And together they smiled, in their hearts, knowing and loving each other well.

Copyright 2012