I sat in my garden reading, leaning against the ancient tree and immersed in a book. The nearby waterfall flowed into the pool below, and its waters softly thundered in the background.

It was peaceful and quiet. But this did not stop me from being able to hear or should I say, feel, the sudden change in atmosphere.

It began so quietly as if a low violin or choir sang on a single low note, but I noticed its familiarity immediately. Then I heard the high keys of a piano play, and my eyes widened. I knew this music.

I dropped my book, and I sat up, looking round. I stood to my feet.

I could feel them.

Footsteps.

Soft, yet sure, and coming closer.

My heart began to pound, as I stopped in the middle of the clearing and waited, holding my hand clutched to my chest.

In time with my pounding heart, the footsteps came closer, and with a soft crescendo, Jesus stepped out from the trees, meeting my expecting gaze with His own and a soft smile. He was dressed in a way I had never seen before. Barefoot, He wore simple, white pants but no shirt except for a sheer, light cloak, leaving His muscled chest exposed.

He was so beautiful.

I immediately ducked my head, and instinctively, bent myself into a curtsy to hide my blushing face. But looking down only made my face hotter, for now I realized I was dressed similarly to Him. I wore a white shift and a sheer, short robe, both which fell barely to my mid-thigh.

I was frozen and did not look up as I heard Him come and stand right before me. His hand came up under my chin and gently raised it, so I was captured by His gaze, a gentle smile still on His face and clear adoration for me in His eyes.

"Am I welcome, My Queen?"

As the words fell from His lips, my eyes welled with tears of love, and I whispered, "A thousand times yes, for who am I to deny my King?"

Jesus' smile widened, and leaning forward, His hands cupped my face, tipping my head back and bringing my lips to His. The music ascended in my ears.

As His lips stroked mine, all I wanted was to melt into Him. With my hands pressed against His chest, I fell into Him, though I only dared to touch His cloak and not on bare skin. With a breath of air, our kiss broke, but I did not move from gazing up at Him.

Stroking my cheeks, Jesus gave a small smile of what I knew was satisfaction, for He showed me what He saw. My eyes were sparkling with adoration; my cheeks flushed; and my lips were swollen and slightly parted. His hands left my cheeks and glided down to caress my shoulders and arms, and to take my hands into His much larger ones. My blushing only deepened when He raised my hands from His chest to His lips, kissing the knuckles, never breaking His gaze from mine.

"I have something to show you," He said softly, His Voice quiet and deep, and His lips continuing to brush my knuckles as He spoke. He lowered my hands, letting go of one, turned and said, "Come."

Holding tightly to His hand, I followed Him into the trees. We moved quickly, despite the thick foliage. The trees and brush seemed to part before Him, moving aside for us to walk without hindrance. Shortly we stopped short of a clearing, and Jesus turned back to face me.

"Close your eyes," He instructed with a mischievous smile, pulling me closer.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is it a surprise?" And quicker than I could blink, He stood behind me, His arms around my waist, pulling me against Him, and His chin rested on my right shoulder.

"Yes," Jesus answered softly in my ear, almost a hum, but His Voice could have rolled like thunder, for I shuddered and shivered. Then His Voice lightened, as He covered my eyes with one hand. "I said, 'Close your eyes.'" And He added with a chuckle, "No peeking."

I gave a puff of air in response but let Him lead me forward. The music began to build again. With each step, I felt and heard it grow. I flushed again. He had even made music play.

We came to a stop, and with the music growing louder every moment, Jesus whispered, "You can look now." He released me, and I gasped.

Hundreds upon thousands of what looked like hummingbirds flew, or hovered, over our heads in a spectacle of flight. Their wings flashed like diamonds, for their feathers refracted the light, so tiny rainbows appeared and disappeared every second. It was that moment I realised the music I heard all this time came from them! They did not chirp or sing as the birds I knew, but played or sang like musical instruments.

They flew, or I should say danced, around me in a whirlwind of color and flight, pulling me to join their dance. I laughed and twirled, my face splitting at the seams and gazing up and round, trying to take everything in.

I turned back to Jesus, who was looking at me with such intensity, my mouth went dry and my knees wobbled. Suddenly, the corner of His mouth quirked up, and my suspicion rose.

"What are You thinking—" I tried to finish, but He bolted at me. My eyes widened and I tried to run but to no avail. He swept me up in His arms, bridal style, spinning me once, as I screeched most un-romantically in surprise. Laughing at my ridiculous reaction as I turned beet-red, Jesus buried His face in my neck and covered it with kisses, turning my embarrassment into laughter.

But then He turned His gaze to mine again, our faces inches from one another, and I felt His intensity again. A small smile played on His lips, as He carried me a few steps further into the clearing. Then setting me down amidst the field of flowers, He sat down next to me, close enough I could easily lean into Him.

The hummingbirds swirled around us, their music singing in time with our breathing. I said nothing; for there is nothing to be said. I was content to simply look into His eyes and be held by them. But He wasn't, for His eyes spoke of want. Desire. For… I couldn't finish that thought, and I looked away to the singing birds.

"What do you think?" He asked softly, leaning close and took my hand that lay on my lap in His, interlocking our fingers. The music softened.

I felt my hand shiver, as He began to run His thumb back and forth against the back of my hand.

"It's beautiful," I answered, my amazement evident. "It–"

I was cut off, and my attention switched to Him again, for He had raised our clasped hands and was kissing the backs of my fingers. His eyes were closed, as if in ecstasy, and my lips quivered. His eyes opened again, staring unblinking into mine, my fingers still to His mouth, and my whole body shook.

"You are beautiful," He said, His eyes aflame.

The moment I heard those words, I realized how much I wanted to show Him how beautiful He was. As I brought my lips to His hand which held mine, I whispered, "Thank You, but You are the One who is truly beautiful."

Immediately, Jesus removed the barrier of our clasped hands and kissed me fully. His hands came around me, holding my head and the small of my back, so I arched into Him. But my hands grasped the lapels of His cloak, avoiding touching His bare chest once again.

"Touch Me," He murmured to my lips, and my hands shook. Of course, He knew my hesitation. I still hesitated, so He said, "I gave all of Myself for you. I am yours, as you are Mine." He paused and His eyes shone a bit more gently. "Are we not one?"

My whole being trembled as the implications of His words settled. My heart felt tight as if it would burst. If I did not act, I would shatter.

"Don't be afraid," He encouraged, bringing His nose to brush against mine.

I let go of His cloak and placed my hands on His chest. Immediately, lightning shot through my fingertips, and I physically shook. After a few moments, the initial shock died down and settled to a warm current running through my veins.

I felt alive.

Letting out a laughing breath, I felt the tears come once again. He was my Life. Without Him, I would die. And I was addicted.

I began to gain courage and slowly moved my hands, caressing His warm skin, to wrap my arms around His torso. Flattening my hands against His back to bring myself closer, my fingertips felt something I didn't expect, and I froze.

Scars.

Instantly, I looked up into His face where I found a melancholic smile. My lip quivered. Would I ever not burst into tears around Him? As He said, He had given everything for me. Who was I to deny Him?

I was His, and He was mine.

Drawing my arms back, I lifted my hands to touch His face and breathed, "My Jesus."

His eyes flashed, and before I could close my mouth to finish speaking, His open mouth descended upon mine. His tongue stroked mine, and I moaned. He did not stop there, but gently pushed me back as He held me, so I lay beneath Him among the flowers.

Gently breaking our kiss, He stroked my flushed cheeks and whispered, "I am going to drown you again. I won't let you know which way is up. For you are Mine."

Wrapping my arms up around His neck and gazing at Him with all the adoration I wished to give Him, I whispered, "I welcome You, my Beloved."

And so beneath the swirling music of the birds and on a bed of flowers, He was all I knew.