'We are reaching into the silence.
Are we the music, whilst the music plays?
Between the un-being and the being,
sounds a hollow rumbling of wings...
Am I here, or there, or elsewhere?'
(With My apologies to T.S. Eliot)
Friday, 22 October 2010
Friday morning's still seem more exciting to me somehow even though I've retired now. Maybe today it's the Autumn sunshine streaming through the blinds lighting up the minute diamonds of condensation or the shifting shadows and sunlight dancing lazily upon the glass. I can't quite catch the real reason why Friday seems to hold promise for me still. Is it so ingrained upon us that the week-end means no work for the next two days?
I am so lucky, I can listen to the clock alarm trill every morning if I want to, reach for my book and tea-cup or simply relish in my thoughts of daylight hours to be filled how e're I wish.