She broke in upon my sight like an old fashioned flash bulb, the kind that temporarily blinds you. Only in this flash of revelation I could see completely in a way that transcends time and somehow subsumes both past and present, and in some vague way, the gory to come. I weep as I write, my whole heart is consumed, so swallowed up in such a magnificent sight, sound and resonance. Even now, years later her voice rings in a sonorous delightful tone, stroking my ear with tender regard. Oh how I deceive myself with possibility, possibility conveyed with what I thought was mutuality. She ever lives in this broken piece of me, this place of vulnerability. She seeps through these cracks and emerges unexpectedly in these tears of mine, warmed by passions deep and an ancient longing. I showed her this place in me and she ran away, burning the tracks left in this journal of mine, frightened in some way by these quantum passions, so inexplicable and yet evident in observed reality. I stood in my usual place, on a usual Sunday, in a usual service, at my usual church, singing a usual song, backed by the usual band, with a usual crowd, on a usual day, in a usual year of my usual discontent. Below me was the entrance to an old-school downtown movie theatre where this church held its services. All the usual people come in - the usual men, the usual women, the usual children - looking around in the usual way to find their usual seats. Then the unusual happened. How black hair can shine a brilliant light Ill never explain. In this muted light in this old theatre with its dark blue walls, pink ceiling, and red carpets and trim could illumine olive skin until it glows I will never know. How subtle elegant clothing gracing a demurely athletic form could attract photons like a spotlight is a mystery to me. But it happened. There she was, moving in slow motion and yet faster than the eye could see. The polar pull in me leapt the distance like a compass, drawing her gaze - spooky action at a distance. Her eyes lit up with a flash of brilliance spilling all over her face, drawing her lips into a great big smile. Her teeth appeared briefly before disappearing in a silent movie greeting, eyes smiling and yet tinged with sorrow too. Such pleasure ever slightly bent by tragedy - like a spice, a nuance never duplicated. youtube/watch?v=5vO9qp9cx4Q
Posted on: Sat, 25 Oct 2014 06:30:16 +0000
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