I like the smell of camphor when the very old casket is opened sometime, It takes me to a time I was prancing and all sunshine!
I never saw the fish tank emptied again and again changing life in the process; I always saw them swimming, laughing - progress
And when the novice in me played the organ for the first time, I remember the murmur…so far…twinkling, tinkling, chinking, jugging… with footstep growing firmer.
Today when I look back in time, I found every breathe you took was more deific then; now looking back…snooping eyes. The universe deistic….rustic me!!!
Give some time to time to heal and you feel, the rhythm of an ocean inside your mind surging wildly – a wiseacre conceited, scornful and slowly calming down to a whirlpool? nothing? Solitary
(Sometimes simply arbitrary) caste away standing alone in the corner! Silence. No commentary!!!
I no more belonged to the tribe I no more long for a ride. I treat and retreat alone in the crowd losing ground among my folks and winning somewhere (Sometimes can I not lose and take the memento) I saw many dying puerilely (and living longer in folk lore, in tales and in fables progenies of life outside any clan, you make it stable you turn the table)
Someone beyond the ocean and beyond the sky beyond the horizon and the star, those who were living and those would not and would not know what they are, (your thumping of the heart would not reach that far)
Each of the few crossing the river, many leaving for the star creating gods in things as they see they are and eons of connected reveries…..blur! Here we are. Photo Source