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Death / Birthday
I have just finished reading a book about death, a beautiful book called The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It is narrated by Death - who, in the book, is quite a decent bloke. At one point he remarks that a difference between humans and himself is that humans have the good sense to die.
Today would have been my dearest's 84th birthday. But he died ( Read more... ) -
The Message of the Terrible Dream
(see previous post)
This is what I think the dream was telling me - and I must say I don't much like the message, but I know I'd better not ignore it
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A Terrible Dream
A man had died, and he was haunting me. I was scared but trying to ignore it. One night as I walked through the living-room, I felt him touch my back, and then I couldn't move and I couldn't speak. I was terrified. I was exerting enormous effort to no avail. Finally I managed to make my legs move to take me into the bedroom. My husband was asleep ( Read more... ) -
The Penny Drops a Little Further
Or perhaps it is that several pennies drop, one by one. At any rate, I come to various realisations, rather slowly. Old ways of thinking, I suppose, take a while to clear.
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Auditory
Yo Yo Ma's fine cello notes
linger in the air around me
long after the YouTube stops.
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Top Cat
I know from my reading
the two pairs of eyes gazing up,
demanding extra breakfast,
are not pleading but aggressive.
I bend closer to their level
and stare back, saying a firm 'No!'
They drop their eyes and slink away.
Aha! I'm still the Alpha.
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Signs
The face in the mirror, caught, shocks ( Read more... ) -
Small Stones 8-11
On the Verandah
The blue of the mountains deepens
in late afternoon light.
The space between them and me
is filled with trees and sky.
The breeze arrives lazily, greets us
and wanders away.
8/1/13
Silver LeavesLike flowers ( Read more... ) -
Whoops, been forgetting to post. Small stones 4-7
Living in the Matrix
The shopping centre roars. Instead of tuning it out, I open my ears. It's closing time. The noise is made of individual sounds conglomerating - many loud voices, the clatter and clang of doors and bolts, the wind-rush of all the machinery that keeps this place functioning. That machinery wind-rush - also made up of different ( Read more... )