from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?


– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.


Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.


Roselle Angwin

Thursday 7 January 2016

made of rain

It happens in a blink of an eye, in the interstice between one hour and another, in the gaps between raindrops. Between snowflakes.

Perhaps you are doing something else. Perhaps you are sharing poetry with deep friends, sharing tea and cake and wine, cosy and loved, oblivious.

He was there in another country, and though we never saw him, we knew he was there. Then suddenly, too young, too suddenly, he wasn't there, and we didn't know for days. And then the wild rush to be there – floods traffic sea mountains lagoons touchdown traffic snow fog – before this his last journey from this realm, at least for now.

Colourful. Unique. Difficult. Utopian idealist. Creator. Outsider. Adventurer, traveller, surfer, maker, musician, linguist, existentialist, loner, stranger.

There is much to say of our time together and its many many adventures (and mishaps); of the journeys; the creations, not least she who changed my world so significantly for the better; the foraging and wild living outdoors in lost pockets of Europe; the sea, the sea, the sea; the songwriting and busking; the learnings; the challenges; the laughter. His laugh.

And none of it is for here. But if I am silent a while, this is why.

The world is still spinning, but spinning a little faster and in a counter-clockwise direction for me, right now.

My friend J wrote me these beautiful words (à propos of being): 'It feels like deep winter to me – made up of sleep for the heart... Well actually made up from rain... aren't we all...' 













2 comments:

  1. Roselle, this is both heart-rending and beautiful. It takes one closer to oneself and strengthens the need to keep trying to reach the heart of things as a way of accepting the pain.
    A hard time for you, this, I sense. Go well.

    With love, Miriam.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you, Miriam. Yes, the rollercoaster continues its unpredictable movements. And I'm OK.

    With love

    Rx

    ReplyDelete

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