Dark

What pleasure there is in sitting up on the couch in the small hours of the morning, sipping hot milk, looking out the window, where strings of orange bulbs on the horizon gleam like self-assurance, reading Whitman’s sublime Leaves of Grass, steeped in Chopin’s sweet Nocturnes, watching doctors on the silent tv fight to save a man from Ebola, remembering what somebody once said: that we live in a world of abstraction. “The order of life,” he’d told me, “is shaped by death. Battling against creation as one finds it yields only victories that cannot last; it’s an exercise of never-ending defeat.” That’s not a good reason to give up the struggle, I recollect replying. Soon, I glance up from Whitman’s live oaks in Louisiana to see two people making love in a field of wildflowers. I am jealous of their abstract passion, trapped as they are inside a television screen, just as we are trapped within our own characters and interpretation and plot. Sitting here with my legs stretched long I listen to Chopin’s liquid voice, the improbable mystery of his vocabulary, meandering expressions so limpid there is no translation. I turn to his language of eternity at this time, a language that will see us through the myriad joys and sufferings in our unreal, messy, transitory world.

8 comments

  1. It always feels good to walk into your world, reading Whitman’s, listening to Chopin’s, and feeling the depth of your thoughts. I loved it. ❤️

    And I’m jealous, too.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks, Isabelle. It’s always a pleasure to have you in my world. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Love the conscious/unconscious stream of thought. Perfect setting. And transposition – whose story, whose plot line, real/imaginary, or is all imaginary? Certainly messy and transitory

    Liked by 1 person

  3. You absolutely fill my heart and give perfect words to how it all feels to me at times. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much, Katy! ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My pleasure! ❤️

        Liked by 1 person

  4. “Unreal, messy, transitory world” indeed. And yet these words also hint at a greater Reality.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, a Reality that only the promise of Eternity could mitigate.

      Liked by 1 person

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