Words That Change

A danger in romance

In Uncategorized on 1 April, 2011 at 23:45

There is a danger in romance. A pure and honest voice, bended by a longing that could not be called complete. There is a danger in Wordsworth. There is nothing that he could have called complete. Even looking at a woodland stream was wishing for people missing to be present. An addiction that brings all those near. They are gone. And that is beautiful. I do not miss my sister. Though I wish that she were here. I do not miss my dearest friend. Though  I would delight and reminisce and it would be fine to be with them. Without them is fine also but different. There is a keener sense of being alone and not measuring myself against another life. I am here. It is fine. I thank you for being here also. The reader of these pages (so designated in code) may detect a desperation to connect. It is a rehearsal. There is no need. Only rising feeling . I pass days happy: supplied and content.

But consistency of life is everywhere. Better to feel, to love and be. It is, after all, how I am. This is my honest voice:

I cry for the world’s pain. But in my own I am numb and avoiding responsibility. I do not see how your concern can match that of a greater being and I am sorry I cannot see much to continue between that and you. That is my limitation. My ignorance is my lack of understanding. I cannot see how you can shop, or walk in a wood. I can barely lift myself from the bed. That is my lack of  moving:  it is closed. The wood has more universe than the daily news. But I read more than I see. It is my limitation. It is not much that I ask, but I wish to see the better of myself. Not the worst, that occurs in neutral situations. We speak, but I do not listen. Beautiful universe, you appear so mundane. It is I who must learn to bow to you. But my ears are closed. I cannot move. I am yours, but cannot hear you. I must move, but  wonder what good it would do. You are so big. I have such little effect…What can I do? In the face of Libya, Sudan, Syria, Nepal, Tibet, Milan, London and Singapore. Our faceless life is a curse on you. Those that enjoy do not see. Or more than I can. I am sorry for that. I have been a faithful friend, fallen short. I will do better next time. I promise, but cannot hope. You are everything to me. I cannot be nothing to you. I have yet to learn that humility. Please teach me. It will be my final lesson. I know that.

But not fully.

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