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| Anticipation |
Tomorrow I drive to the airport to collect my baby girl. Oh yay, I say, for I cannot wait. And I have discovered that absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder it just means you get to see less of those you are fondest of - and she is very high on my list. This week I have been reading The Essential Poems by Pablo Neruda, and random lines pull at my memory tags, 'The night wind spins in the sky and sings.' or 'Little by little, and also in great leaps, life happened to me,' or 'Perhaps it was my punishment/ Perhaps I was condemned to be happy...' (that line tickles me greatly). And also this week I have been pulling the bones of a new project together, new writing, new ideas, new things to say (and I wonder if they will ever be said or if they will stay put, haunting my inner self, taunting my well being. Perhaps I am condemned to be happy and its hard to write when contentment lurks in your guilty conscience.). Here's another story song from the fine Karine P. again. I find myself drawn to the pathos but also the lines:
Caught between the air and the windless deep
You float like a lily flower
And you look just like you fell to earth to sleep
And you’re waiting for your waking hour
Followed by
And I swear to God I saw an angel hand attend you.
And you look just like you fell to earth to sleep
And you’re waiting for your waking hour
Followed by
And I swear to God I saw an angel hand attend you.
But that was just the dancing of the light...'
because it resonates with the writing I am doing. And I am now looking for a copy of Cold Night Lullaby.
