Ferodo – Forget me not – Alice


Alice was back in my house again after seven long years. She’d arrived just the last week on the doorstep, looking older and hoping I’d be able to rejoin our fractured lives again. So far I’d let her in but we hadn’t really connected.

We’d been parted abruptly, we lost each other suddenly like when a glacier finally cracks after years as a moraine and melts and falls into the sea. I’d gone first, melted by a sudden change in the weather and left her behind still frozen the status quo of life we’d become. Sure I loved her, but having melted away, I could not go back. Try as I might, I could not remember or feel the same things or go back in time.

So it went on like that. In the first year of our fracture I’d been to Japan and saturated myself in Saki, Sushi and to recover, climbed the slopes of Mt Fuji. Every day I’d look for a dose of exotica to help cover over the memories of the life I’d given up. I went to India and up and down streets with crowds of Hindu at holi festivals, but never once to temple.  Which I probably should have. Still I’d been faithful to her and I knew eventually we had to get back together.  It was just a question of time perhaps.

Having melted into the ocean of possibility, knowledge and experience, I’d lost my structure and purpose.  I couldn’t get Alice back or my life for that matter. Even the travel, although refreshing didn’t put it all back together. As the years went by it became easier, but colder and more distant, even from myself. Anyway, here I was in my fairly comfortable home and Alice had found me somehow, yet so far I hadn’t really found her.

I opened the door to get some fresh air.  It was dark out but I needed to walk. Down the path a little and around toward little creek at the back of the property. Flowers seem to have a glow and brightness as the sun retreats for the night.  In the evening under stars flickering their petals glow softly but defiantly against the surrounding dark.  Dark full of sounds of frogs and moving things but still with the chill of the night air. There the flowers stood bravely against the darkness, and the star centered scented flowers shone quietly into my mind. I hadn’t forgotten her, I’d missed her badly, but she that I missed was not the one that I’d left. But there was music there, that uncanny Dido’s Lament came to mind.  Where Dido laments that she be remembered, but not for the way she left the world.

I turned then to go back to the house with that lament by Purcell running through that blue petals image in my mind.

“Remember me, Remember me,

but ah ah forget my fate,

remember me but ah..

forget my fate.”

How sad would that be, I thought, that if only we were parted forever, that I should forget her fate. We really must try to find it again. The lights were on and I slid the door open and stepped inside and still there was Alice, looking carefully at my face … smiling…hopefully.

Photo: “Forget-me-not” copyright, Diane Cordell, used with permission.

Waiting Standing Thinking


Waiting standing thinking — will the weather change ? That horizon, like a stone bench holds a heavy heaven cloud, but just here the courtyard light streams through the skylight and all seems bright. Bright for now.  But what of yesterday too when ringing around with sound of hammer on steel I wandered slowly gazing. A bass clarinet breathing sounds through the parapet. A low sounding solo of calm resigned loneliness talking to the dying day. A furrow grazed his brow as I stood there looking at the far sky.But here I stand today all quiet and mourning the day like it had died already and just waiting,, waiting for the standing thinking time to finish.

“Do you think I would really leave ?  After getting to know you a bit ?” he said, not turning his head, but staring into the distance.

“I’m standing here thinking you’d already gone.  But I suppose things didn’t work out.  With the project..  So I thought.. I thought you would be.. leaving for the next place.”  she said.

“I would leave and I know that having left, I’d probably forget the place quickly.  Depending on what came next you know. But then I’ve got used to this courtyard, that crazy musician inside and you too. Standing there so thoughtful.  It’d be hard to leave again.” he said

“But that rock has to be split, you know – it cannot stay this way.  It was like a river rock to wrestle with, and now it’ll be split into two forever.  The pieces wont join back again.” she said.

“But there’ll be a left hand and right  hand part.  They could fit together and the memory of their fit might last.  Don’t you think ?”

“No, once split, those rocks will go their own way, the edges rounding off on other paths, and then they would not fit together again, even if by some faint chance they met again.” she said.

I would’ve said – “the day will die”

but for the hammer on the rock I cry,

and waiting standing thinking there

I saw him leaving

without a care

I read my heart a romance stone

Amethyst Flower
A rose for Valentine’s

You see it was an amethyst stone.  Found fallen from a bangle chain.

It must’be been, lying there on the street.  When I picked it up as you do, it had small writing on it. I showed it to the seller at the packed flower stall nearby.  She took one look at it and said ‘the writing’s too small’ .  I asked did she have a magnifying glass.

“no.. It’s the kind of stone that you have to give, it has a message on it, but it cannot be read unless it connects to the heart of the one it is given to.”  She said.

” How do you know that ? ” I asked.

“I know that because I had one once.  Just like that only bigger.  A young man turned up one day and gave it me just on the street nearby.  I had been alone for the whole day. Standing round the bus stop, waiting for the bus,  he must have been sucked in by the scent of flowers all over me from selling all day.  Pink ones they were.  I’d got away early because we’d run out of ’em.  Tired I was tho. and leaning against the bus stop sign he just walked up and said.  I want to give you this, it shoud cheer you up.”  “I could read the writing on it then, …but not now – I lost that sudden love unfortunately….”

It was small in my hand purple like amethyst.  Perhaps it was, but it had that tiny kind of stone writing on it you know … not in ink, but in different color.  But how does that kind of writing get on it I wondered.  More to the point, how am I to read the one I just found.

“….Give it to the one you love maybe.  Tomorrow would be a good day.” she said.

I didn’t know why tomorrow might be good, but I felt like trying the little rock out.  I gave the purplish thing to her, but she said.  “No — this is not for me — be patient — your heart is just experimenting I can tell.”

“You’re more curious than in love. You always have been.” she said as she put her right hand on my chest. Startled, I looked down as she carefully placed the little rock back in my hand with her left.

I could read though my salt tears, writing close within a red heart set in the darker cross of the stone.. simply ‘Your Valentine’.

Image:flickr – with permission. Tersiiska – Copyright 2014