I just didn’t know how to begin. The words, the thoughts, the lines, they came and went and with them they brought and took away a million feelings a million times. I was not ‘consistent’ they said. ‘Consistent’ is a strange thing to be as one learns one must change every second. Survival is adaptation so ‘consistent’ I was not – did not want to be.
Poetry, I thought. Rhyme and rhythm. That amazing combination of words that express emotions unsaid and sights unseen with such laconic expertise that it bewildered. It had to be poetry. There must be poetry. Yet there was none…as yet. And if it were to be then I must write it.
This was a disturbing conclusion so I ignored it. For writing was something of the past. The rhyme had deserted me and the rhythm no longer beat in the freely flowing words. So I turned to words. Just plain words with no frills. And then there was the abstract. That which was known yet unknown and that which was above all loved because it left all but a slight notion to the imaginative mind. Was this an option when I wanted to make myself clear? To make myself heard and most importantly understood.
The fact of the simple matter was, I did not know. Did not know what was to come. What had passed and what was now. Yet there was no sense of foreboding. No uncertainty for that had passed too. With no help from the world I might add.
And then it nagged again. Something between thought and feeling, somewhere between mind and heart. So elusive that even though it was within me I was unable to grasp it. Even though its origins lay in, possibly, the deepest darkest recesses of that unknown part of me, it was as swift as the most fleeting glance.
It turned the day into night and the night into a gloom cast. It made the laughter artificial and it made the heart heavy and the mind dysfunctional and dull. It nagged at joy and boosted the sorrow. What was it, this creature? So illusory yet so effectual.
Poetry, I thought. Rhyme and rhythm. That amazing combination of words that express emotions unsaid and sights unseen with such laconic expertise that it bewildered. It had to be poetry. There must be poetry. Yet there was none…as yet. And if it were to be then I must write it.
This was a disturbing conclusion so I ignored it. For writing was something of the past. The rhyme had deserted me and the rhythm no longer beat in the freely flowing words. So I turned to words. Just plain words with no frills. And then there was the abstract. That which was known yet unknown and that which was above all loved because it left all but a slight notion to the imaginative mind. Was this an option when I wanted to make myself clear? To make myself heard and most importantly understood.
The fact of the simple matter was, I did not know. Did not know what was to come. What had passed and what was now. Yet there was no sense of foreboding. No uncertainty for that had passed too. With no help from the world I might add.
And then it nagged again. Something between thought and feeling, somewhere between mind and heart. So elusive that even though it was within me I was unable to grasp it. Even though its origins lay in, possibly, the deepest darkest recesses of that unknown part of me, it was as swift as the most fleeting glance.
It turned the day into night and the night into a gloom cast. It made the laughter artificial and it made the heart heavy and the mind dysfunctional and dull. It nagged at joy and boosted the sorrow. What was it, this creature? So illusory yet so effectual.
Something between thought and feeling
Lay somewhere between heart and mind
In swirls of darkness hopes were reeling
Till solace those illusions did find
Its origins lay in the deepest,
Farthest part of the soul we had
Illuminated were the recesses darkest
With memories sad and glad
Strands of thought formed from the mist
Of reason and belief, they stood
Alone and apart from the rest
Enshrouded beneath the sacred hood.
The Holy Grail, it has been lost
And the purest blood has flowed
The boundaries of faith, they have been crossed
The seeds of doubt are sowed
What will become of reason now?
What destiny does lease
We have lost what was ours – and how!
We have shattered the simple peace.
The bonds that hold the world together
Have snapped between you and I
So now there is no forever
It just seems like there is goodbye.