There is a certain level of safety in a collar; basking in the sun on Sunday afternoon a gentle breeze flowing though your hair, cooling the sweat forming at the base of you neck.
Content with longing is a state of being for one such as myself. Like a serene lake; the water reflecting the majestic sky as a mirror; the earth cries to the sky, trees are her arms reaching for her love.
As a slave, my spirit flies as Icarus, free as a bird on the tailwind of the ocean as if the sea mist itself was holding my soul high above the ground.
The only thing keeping me from flying to close to the sun and loosing my wings; My Master who awaits for me on that lush moss covered ground reminding me that I don't always have to fly so high. I can relax in a state a being with him by my side.
On that cool ground I feel peace, home in his arms. His claim on you, around your neck like his hands would be the moment you asked. You are his in your entirety.
And when I choose to fly again. I have a tether to that place; a cord of silver and steel. A delicate thread of who I am. This collar tells me I am safe to be free encouraged to grow. And I never have to be afraid because he is always there. My wonderful shadow.
My Master.
-Pandaish
