I stood on the pitch dark lane tonight watching a plane
flying overhead. It struck me that there was something fundamentally absurd
about the fact that I was standing and still, while the passengers on the plane
were all sitting but moving through space. It had me trying yet again to get my
head around the meaning behind such seemingly obvious questions as: What is a
body? What is space? What is movement? I’m sure the answers aren’t quite as
obvious as they seem.
… and I’m becoming almost consumed by the need to see the
priestess before I die. I don’t even need to speak to her. I just want to see
her eyes.
… and that reminded me of a sad story my mother used to
tell me when I was a child, about a poor
man who needed to visit his dying mother in hospital but didn’t have the money
for the train fare.
... and now that the Lady B declines to acknowledge my existence on the plane of mortal man, walking past her house at night feels a little odd. I can't decide whether it's the unfamiliar sense that it no longer means anything, or whether it's the unreasonable suspicion that I am somehow close to trespassing on alien territory, or whether it engenders a mix of melancholy and nostalgia. Not that I let it worry me, of course.
... and now that the Lady B declines to acknowledge my existence on the plane of mortal man, walking past her house at night feels a little odd. I can't decide whether it's the unfamiliar sense that it no longer means anything, or whether it's the unreasonable suspicion that I am somehow close to trespassing on alien territory, or whether it engenders a mix of melancholy and nostalgia. Not that I let it worry me, of course.
… and I sang the first verses of Peggy Gordon and Raglan Road
for the little people on the way back.
I hope they enjoyed it. I did.
5 comments:
You watching the plane reminds me of the Kate Bush song, Hello, Earth.
That does sound like a sad story.
I have always been uncertain if the priestess you refer to is an actual person. Is she? Hope you don't mind my asking.
Nice of you to sing for the gentry on your way home :)
Feel better! Up! not down.
I've never heard Hello Earth. Must find it on YT and have a listen.
My mother specialised in sad stories, but she would always change the ending if I insisted hard enough.
The priestess is, indeed, a real person. A most extraordinary person. A very old soul in a relatively young body. I hitched a lift with her to the stars while she was on the way to somewhere else.
I sometimes wonder whether they get bored with the same old songs. Maybe I'll give them The Parting Glass tomorrow night. I know both verses of that.
I'm trying, I'm trying...
"I hitched a lift with her to the stars while she was on the way to somewhere else."
Kinda Hello Earth-y :)
Love ya, Peanut.
Kate's my kid sister, didn't you know? We traded ideas. Haha.
Much love to you to, Beazley.
:)
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