I always jot down small bits of nonsense. At some point they become parts of songs. Or I will turn them into small stories. Yes, the ramblings of a mad mind…or of those I call friends!
Best advice given to me by a friend:
Don’t ground yourself in your past.
Or pick yourself apart when alone.
Not everything is your fault,
So stop carrying the sins of others Auriol.
It will kill you.
Says my Aunt…
When you don’t expect it
Or when you think you are not ready
As life races past you
the miraculous will tear you from your sleep.
Says my Mother
Trust, everything’s in God’s hands and I am praying for you.
What if I don’t believe and enjoy sleep too much to notice, I ask them?
They smile, shake their heads and whisper two words; these two women at the centre of my life,
two words which anchor my hopes
two words for which there is no rational response…
Seen him dressed in snow
His hat brimmed and wide
As voices echoe between
Wood and string
I have seen him with
heavy feet, tired eyes
where music dances on the lines of his forehead
For as long as I can remember dreaming
Loving you was…a ceremony, a song I hummed under my breath as I fell asleep at the wheel
Dearest Great Granddaughter…
There is never a right time for anything girl. Neither is there a right person for you either. Ah, do not look so shocked. I do not believe in romantic love. Despite the music and my many lovers, I never believed for one second. All that will ever be afforded to you is this one moment. And the one after that but each moment, each second is a new start. It’s when we do not remember when the real troubles begins. Thank the gods for the moments when we are forced to stand still and remind ourselves… that we are creatures of time, trapped but not bound to it.
My favorite husband and I argued a great deal, we were passionate beings after all. After every every storm of words and pointless actions all we could do was decide what next to do and feel. Feeling and being matters. Yet they are not one and the same thing. People confuse this often. When you and your lover draw swords baying for blood – that is when being matters and not your feelings. As the sheets in your bed bleed crimson – that’s when your true being is revealed. In that second you must decide child. Are you one who injures and cuts? Is this the sum total of who you are? Sometimes blood is the price for your freedom, other times not. So it’s best you forget what came before. Forget when you packed your bags and your lover awoke to an empty house. Put it aside….there is never a perfect moment or a perfect person. Only this moment when clarity surfaces and you can breathe.
We are creatures carefully crafted, our bones and being call others to us. We call from deep within. We sing to them and in the small hours the sound creeps into their ears. That’s when they move towards you; every person is a door slowly being unlocked.
We travel through time and space with love stuck in our hands faraway girl. Never forget we are creatures of time and all that binds us, is the love that knocks on our door, minute after minute.