I am in one of those stages where there is a certain kinda peace, and a certain kind of agony approaching in the distance. It’s called ‘The Inevitable’. It is in a way like death, not because something is dying but because its like an incoming tide and you can do nothing to stop, and the footprints in the sand from today’s journey will be gone tomorrow and no one will really be any the wiser. Washed away in the tide will be dreams, things you have believed in and worked to nurture, things you have revealed at the deepest level of your being, things you dared think possible, washed away in this approaching tide will be love. Something I never ever wanted to let go.
Its funny how journeys end so closely to where they have begun. That they are in fact cyclical, although they may not always look like a nicely curved cycle on a diagram, [ after all doesn't cycle just mean to go around ]. Journeys can bare more resemblance to the scribbling of a crayon fisted toddler, but they begin and end on the paper.
I can remember when I first laid eyes on a creature of wonder and beauty in the room across the hall. Oh no she was not in the room but 7000miles away. I now write in the room where I didn’t first lay eyes on her, but I write about the portential end of this relationship. It is not for lack of love that I write, like I said there is a peace in the approach of the inevitable. Its like it has been looming in the distance for a while and all manner of resources have been used to stave it off, but now the resources and dreams have run into reality and inevitability approaches, like the incoming tide, slowly and surging closer each paying moment.
Waves of longing accompany memories of every moment shared on the road, the wanting to go back and try another deviation in the path, or make that moment last longer. Like forever!
I fear the end of this cycle, it was a beautiful one that has gone awol to the cares of this world, and fear.
There will be poetry for sure.
