Dream-Day 1st-May-of-Lovers

Surely Advaita, surely,

lovers are always in fear to hurt each other,  maybe a reason for lovers difficulties? Even a reason not to love at all?

Beautifully courageously you joined our Dream-Days, and that the phone-call on Saturday, where Mimamai was torturing me, was not from your Twin-Sister asking to come, no, the call came from my daughter - leaving her mother to start her own life with her boy-friend.

Adveita, we jubilated another Dream-Day, because you still feel astonished that a caring existence made you fail this time to push me in the Ice-Brook before the Beaver jumped.

That made you curious what kind of mysterious shelter was around me that your bitchy attack not only failed but on contrary: You came in a mood of seldom felt peace.

You went alone to your bed in our guest-room pondering like your letter proves.

After less than six hours sleep around 6 a.m. you heard some rumor in the house and both of you needed to go to toilet, Mimamai with her short shirt, barefoot, you came out your room with a yellow negligee, yellow slippers, with yellow cuddly balls on top.

Both of you women looked at each other with this mysterious female smile of agreement, and you both looked at me with a pout, a man never can get, if a woman has enough of a man or wants more.
"Breakfast" - and we both felt surprised that by a word and a short look at you, you followed a little mechanical in this early morning hour, but you came out of our Guest-Room and had coffee.

Mimamai went back into her bed, because her job begins later.

So we started with my backpack, Greek Salad and bread for each.

You followed a little bit unwillingly,  but the quick car was comfortable, you accepted the sound and without any word we drove on a Highway to the sunny Alpes, one-a-half hour:

We stopped at Walchensee above Kochelsee, put our mountain-shoes on to climb up. Almost with my biggest step we came up very quickly and again you made me wonder of no single sound of complain.

Our bodies perspired, our sweater I carried, and when you needed to pee, you just crouched down in the grass even feeling my eyes watching your rounds carefully but still no complains!

I layed myself down on a historical manure-card with naked feed.

At the fountain I filled my bottle with water, we had a little gulp from the same bottle, continued climbing as quickly my long legs could run.

Like at night I heard your breathing, my fear get lesser and lesser, because I felt you occupied, to bring your body up with the same speed
as mine.

Let's make it shortly: the last hour we had to cruise snow-path only, very slippery and so steep, that in the serpentines you behind me looked nearly at my shoes.

I felt you more and more in tune, I even reduced my shelter, and by this you felt much more closer immediatly.

We had to gain a height more than 1000 metres, and trampling before you I felt so exhausted, that one serpentine failing I run mechanically
straight on till I sink in deep snow.

You just had waited silently a few steps behind waiting for realizing my mistake and when I returned on our way, I saw no malicious smile in your face.

This Dream-Day on First-May-of-Lovers made my shelter reduce much more, and our hearts felt meeting in a space never had met before.

When I panted on the summit-cross, I took my Cell-Phone to call Mimamai at home at 10.00 a.m.

Our shirts were completly wet and I changed mine, took over my sweater from the backpack and handed you yours and you put off your wet shirt and feeling my eyes magnetized by watching your naked breath you filled your longues instinctivly with air and the sun in this dream so intense I could cry, cry - sob.

Our shoes were completly wet from snow, and I started to undress shoes and socks, and you did the same and first time on this weekend, I started to massage your cold feet, my first touch of you at Dream-Days.

Never had run on this Herzogstand so quickly, and we sit in the summit-shelter, and I opened the Greek-Salad, but had no forks to make us eat and feel like animals.

Deep with your breath you whispered slowly: "I will lick it!"

With the same fingers just had touched your feet, I started to take salad, you looked incredulously but joined eating silently - dream in the sun.

The last portion I took together and dared to come with the food to your mouth, and you opened it silently and you got it like a child-bird from under my wings closed your eyes a bit, made my fingers stay longer than necassary in your warm, cosy red-lips-cave.

I took your head in my arm pulling you nearer, and your mouth came to my ear and deep with your breath you whispered slowly:
"I will lick it!", 
could not figure out what, but your nearness, your breathing, your words, the smell of your hair made me tremble, shiver,
one-inch-below-the-navel: God-In-You-and-me.

My shelters fell down completly and weak and near to my tears your warmth keep me grounded and you wind your arms around me to hold my shivering-tremble like Mimamai always does, when loosing myself in nothing and nowhere.

The dream went on so excitingly, difficult to write about and my head in the sun became much too hot in great danger of sun-stroke.

Hovering down the snow-path, steep, again our feet went cold, wet, a dangerous anti-pole to the feaver in my head.

Coming back to the Cottage, where people reach with Cable-railway, to drink and eat, immediatly I layed myself down on a historical manure-cart with naked feet to close my eyes getting fixed again in my trembling being inside mine.

Coming back to my senses in mundane world, a man handed me his visit-card asking:

"I took some pictures of you, may I put them on my web-page?"


I simply noded with my eyes only on you still by my side and your face looked shining like mirroring the Sun promising all joys on Earth.

We went down in the valley like on wings, school-girls came from the cable-railway singing like devotional songs together  "wonna be your girl" in chorus, drove back in the sunshine to Mimamai's public-pool, where she smiled at us from her cash-room, to let us pass free of charge.

This public pool is a little bit a proletarian place, lots of Turkish people, young men with Tatoos, very young girls pleasing them, we enjoyed
the sun, swim and had a shower and now you rest here in your Dream, you both will get food, just have to prepare right now, when the letter is sent from your sincerly

n, love

forging swords-of-gender-games to sweet little flatteries.

----- Original Message -----
From: pesce juanita
To: sannyas-list@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Tuesday, May 01, 2001 8:49 AM
Subject: Re: [neosannyas] Leaving her behind - Sampas

Querido Senor Nobody...

I am horribly flattered by your fnatasies, but this poem shows
  that you are so insensitivo. Did you not feel me trying to push 
you into the Ice-river. This Jayahn knows even less about 
poetry than you do about women.
----- Original Message -----
From: pesce juanita
To: sannyas-list@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Monday, April 30, 2001 9:46 PM
Subject: Re: [neosannyas] Leaving her behind - Sampas

Sweet Jesus! There is one thing that you and Mr. Nietsche 
have in common: A 19th century perspective on life and 
you know nothing about women. Nada.