'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)
Tuesday, 12 October 2010
Sixty-five thousand questions. Who are we? Who am I, pinned down by this mysterious illness that fluctuates and dies down, flares-up and disables, makes me feel like a kaleidoscope - a myriad different colours that change shape at every move and shake.
I remember the smell of freesia as I sat in the wedding-car in my bridal veil and dress. The perfume filled the car...creamy white Freesia and Stephanotis. Where did the time go, forty two Autumns ago? All the heart-beats, all the breaths, a thousand kisses deep. Dear JM, where are you now? Among the stars, gone too soon.