A Meditation on Departure:The buzz in my ear
A wise man is always in transit … To grow one must travel, not necessary move …
I walk a narrow line, try to maintain balance.
There is no rush, no traffic, just night-saturated silence; early splinters of light, knifelike-slits in the diminishing darkness spotlighting alpine-peaked clouds swept into position for a cinematic dawn. A history not yet written teeters between destiny and chance …
No appointments made nor instructions given, an indeterminate mass of possibility waiting for a spark: human or divine.
The earth spins: so it goes …
I awoke, sensitive to a change of light, didn’t check the time, my ear abuzz, a warm encompassing sound, omnidirectional. I know what’s expected of me … I’m prepared, what little I need assembled weeks ago …
The day awaits a design: a narrative, a plot, a story slogging to completion. Listless elements hiding in still sleeping busses, silent stations … a train scheduled, more potential than real … I’m a pliable mass. My will untested, subservient to unknown forces circulating like an invading virus through my nervous system … emergent after a long paralysis.
I wanted to split … remained immobile, dream-bound … lead-footed The world too much with me …
She asked, “Do you still know who you are? The old you needs enhancement, a hosing down, a refit …
I’ll disappear like the mist in the morning … I’m inspired by dew… it sticks to the foliage, evaporates leaving a inevitable residue. Disappearance too final. It’s not in the genes, too physical … I wish for something with all of the trappings and none of the permanence … Everything cyclical attracts me … molecules gather clarity as they spin, the seed compressed, ready to propagate when it’s time comes.
She’ll leave the door open …
It’s agreed, a game, an action, something to break the impasse required … to speak of renewal a presumption, unlock it, she says … I need a sign, a catalyst … something to baptise me into this era …