my gaze stops to rest Continue reading
I remember taking refuge in the sensation of pain. It was overwhelming and I consciously let it overwhelm me. From the outside there was a cooling breeze, coming from the shore. Soothing sounds of waves somewhere in the dusk that encapsulated the beech now. The pain originated in my shoulder but as I let it, it would stream hot into my back and neck and from there would fill my guts and thighs. I was comfortable with it because it was so familiar and so close to me. How can pain ever be anything but very close to me?
I remember taking refuge in my naive romantic dreams coming from my childlike poetic heart. This is how life should be. Living from what nature gives me. Seeing the sun set, while listening to songs telling my own story, singing along.
I remember taking refuge in the music in my ears. Music! A voice directed at me. It had been days since I heard a voice directed at me. Longer even since I spoke myself. An now this. Carefully I hummed along with the song that I knew vaguely.
When I did my shopping earlier this morning, I forgot to remember it is Whitsun this Sunday. So Monday is a holiday too and all shops will be closed. But I did remember in time to get myself at least one more carton of milk. And while I was at it, I picked up a box with eggs and some cheese too.
All the better songs in Pop culture have a main theme that concerns itself with either love or with death. Both are indeed of the utmost importance.
Only very few songs are really good. Those are the songs our parents like and we like and our children like too. We hum them without further thought as we do the dishes. They get covered in all styles. They resonate in our hearts. Most of these songs that are that good, have this unnamed quality to them. They describe life itself, somehow.