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How wonderful it would be

to stop counting time

forget one’s age

one’s height

one’s past

no hours or minutes

just moon and sun

and endless freedom

to discover

one’s age

one’s wisdom

the world

Art: Salvador Dali, The Persistence of Memory (1931)

 

I saw your face

It was a dream

It was real

I don’t know

I saw your face

You were here

I missed you

Until the next time

When we are both cats…

boy-with-a-cat-by-pierre-auguste-renoir

Art: Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Boy with a Cat

 

 

images

His eyes.

She was in a grand hall, teeming with people. So many people, it was hard to see past them. Heads formed a cobbled tapestry, resembling a heavy, angry ocean under a dark sky. The steady murmur of voices was like the hum of an invisible swarm, hovering somewhere outside, seeping in like magma. Stifling, relentless, encroaching. Slowly she made her way through the crowd, jostled left and right, losing her sense of direction with every step. She could not turn back. She could hardly move, finally giving herself up to the pressing current of so many bodies against hers. Then she saw his eyes. Dark, unblinking, looking straight at her. She could not see his face, body, only the dark eyes riveting her to the spot. Fear pushed her on and she struggled against the throng, desperately trying to escape… She knew she couldn’t.

©aother

full-moon

Under the full moon

Nothing stirs

Under the full moon

Oceans rise

Under the full moon

Fear departs

Under the full moon

Nature sleeps

 

Under the full moon

Soul rejoices

Under the full moon

Love is born

Under the full moon

Lovers sigh

Under the full moon

Lovers die

 

Under the full moon

Body lies still

Under the full moon

Heartbeat subsides

Under the full moon

The future is here

Under the full moon

The past revives

 

Under the full moon

All is as is

Under the full moon

Nothing leaves

Under the full moon

Darkness reigns

Under the full moon

Light remains.

 

©aother

 

ORedon1

Night encroaches

Dreamless state of terror

Voided sleep

Black on black

Fear appearing in the dark

Night encroaches

Soul departs

What remains

Has no right

To be

©aother

OdilonRedon

Art: Odilon Redon

Unlike everyone else who could sleep for days, even months – and there were stories of those who, lost in their dreams, slept for years and, like On, were finally forgotten – Ona woke up often. She lay in the darkness with her eyes closed, wondering where she was. Was it Tu, or Tam? Stepping outside, she observed the receding forest and a growing silence that seemed to descend on the valley. The sun was slowly disappearing over the horizon, and she felt as though she would never see it again. The homes were empty, and there was no one around. With a sudden realization, she knew she was the last one awake in Tu. She walked through the quiet and deserted hamlet until she came upon a solitary weeping willow, its long soft branches like tendrils touching her face. She lay underneath the dark sky and fell asleep. 

On the white beach coloured pebbles waited for her and the blue ocean beckoned…

                                                              *

©aother

*In a faraway land, over a tall mountain ridge, lay the small hamlet of Tu. Everyone who lived there belonged to the same family. All the men were called On, and all the women had the name of Ona. Their ancestors came to the valley from an unknown place, and since nothing was ever written down, it remained a mystery. They called it Tam, and often dreamt about it. But everyone’s dream was different, which made the mystery so much more mysterious. With each generation the dreams became longer and more colourful, and the citizens of Tu spent more and more time sleeping. They had thick curtains in the windows and ate only once a day. There were many animals and plants in the valley, and it soon became clear, that they too were dreaming.

(to be continued)

©aother

It is hiding in the corners

Lurking just out of sight

Weighing heavy on my chest

Invisible Succubus

Reality unchained

Raw

Merciless

Soul-less

By whose measure?

And why fear it?

(…)

@aother

John_Henry_Fuseli_-_The_Nightmare

Art: John Henry Fuseli

The Nightmare

 

III.

The moonbeam was getting wider and wider and soon it became a sea of light and Dot was not sure if she should stop walking.

Shasha had jumped out of her arms and was slowly disappearing in the distance, leaving behind shiny gold paw-prints.

“Wait!” Dot shouted after her, but she was out of sight by then and Dot had no choice but to follow her trail.

As she skipped along, she forgot to look around her and was surprised to suddenly feel a tap on the shoulder.

At first she didn’t see anything, sensing only a gentle wave of air that seemed to embrace her.

The shimmering light was forming shapes in front of her, and slowly her eyes met other eyes and soon there were smiling faces too.

Children were stepping out of the light, one by one, and holding hands they formed a circle around Dot.

She giggled, spinning and clapping her hands.

The children were dressed in gold and they had transparent skin through which Dot could see clouds.

She looked at her own body and saw that she too was dressed in gold and appeared to be sitting on an invisible cloud.

For the first time, Dot wondered if she might be dreaming.

If I am dreaming, she thought to herself, then I can do anything I want, and just as she thought that, she became the cloud and drifted away.

She floated above the laughing children and the sea of light that was now turning into a real ocean.

“Shasha, where are you?” Dot didn’t want to fly alone anymore.

Soft purring told her everything was all right and Dot opened her eyes. The cat was curled next to her.

The moon was shining into the room, and on the carpet near the window she could see a tiny gold paw-print.

(to be continued)

©aother

II.

More than anything else Dot wanted a brother.

“When will I have a brother?” she kept asking.

“I am working all day,” her mother would answer.

“Why can’t you have him on Sunday?” Dot’s logic was beyond dispute.

There was no answer to that question. Mother would dismiss it with a gentle shrug and Dot felt very much alone at that moment.

She was glad to have Shasha there.

That night she held her a little closer, feeling her heart beating against her chest. She pressed her face to the warm fur.

The night enveloped them both and Dot forgot about everything else.

When she opened her eyes, the moon was peering into the room and she felt as if she could touch it.

She picked Shasha up and got out of bed.

The moon spread a shimmering carpet in front of them and she stepped onto it with her little feet, Shasha’s heart beating against hers.

She felt very brave.

(to be continued)

©aother