Icarus @ 59 # 305

I feel like this today - hapless and hanging precariously on the edge. I missed work for the first time in over twenty years, I have had a joint problem all week that flared up in the night and meant I couldn't walk (and actually couldn't sleep - which I have spent most of the day doing). Anti-inflammatory drugs prescribed and taken and I should be on my feet in a couple of days - but jeez, real pain is not good for the soul. And now I fear even my walking pace football days are over, such a shock to realise that has to be the case, but there it goes. And so, tomorrow I will be sitting at home and working on the stuff that should have been done today - that's just the way it is and will have to be. Now ok, this is an advert but I like to think of it as a Pablo Neruda poem with a football film. Forgive me the ending, this is truly lovely, " I like for you to be still' - I have included the words below the film if you want to read as Glenn Close reads one of my favourite poems of all time:

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
It sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true