SOC Writing _ 4.9.21

Sleepy Hollow           

How do you do said the man in the grey cap, slinking by as if to be unnoticed, yet wanting to be seen. There is a complicated scene unfolding in our lives – the like never to be seen again. As universes form - things cool off so that life can take hold in more complexity, more nuance. As it is with us – the supernova of our beginnings now into a rock called earth where we draw our ley lines – plant trees and wonder at the complexity we have created. It then continues to die and rebirth – die and morph into the most marvellous creatures. The babies eyes meet mine and I am transfixed by the lone wolf stare – the seeing through as if what stands in front of you is not really there at all – what stands is nothing – out of which became everything – so everything in the child looks back at the everything in me – hence we have pupils – voids at the centre of our looking glasses to remember we are nothing and everything – all of the time. I wonder about this particular moment – the faces of your brothers, mother, father – goosie sitting like a limp biscuit on Gary like he is holding in just the right way your childhood totem – so that it can see you, so you can be seen in the way that blood looks at blood - known for no other reason that that – I know you – I look at that which I know as if only to know again myself. My life always a part of yours – brothers – sister – mother – father – grandmother – the circle of treatise as we go around healing, crying, dying, sighing and of course laughing – at all the things that don’t matter – at the humour that arose from days upon days of childhood antics – and watching The Simpsons. These precious pieces of an old life with our siblings come now as golden fragments – as undiscovered truth beneath the soil of the new bed of flowers we have planted. They like us are compost for future dreams – bedrock on which the future path we tread will defiantly look back to.