It is almost as if there is something there, something just beyond the grasp that lies so tantalisingly close, which – if twisted just the right way for just the right amount – somehow set the whole thing right. Sometimes, it seems that other people know this secret, that they have taken hold of this mysterious thing and twisted it, turned it, so they can go about the kind of life they want; while we yearn and reach, grasping out into empty air, feeling the fingertips brushing the very edge of what could be possible.
Other times, though, it is the others that seem lost and alone, as though they once knew some great secret, but now have lost it; as though they are blindly seeking something they do not know how to name or describe.
Perhaps we are all lost, lost and seeking, searching for that one thing – whatever it could be – that would make all of this make sense for us, give us a reason to get up in the morning to face another unknown day that lies out there in the mists of morning ready to pounce, rip and tear.
Then we think that if only we could find the right key for the morning, we could unlock a day that promises so much: a morning of spring and sunlight and fresh breezes that blow the scents of promise towards us, a morning we could walk in and find around every bend something we had yearned for, but could not name.
No comments:
Post a Comment