Contemplations on Father's Day
We drove to the edge of town, the distant lights twinkling in the clear night. We found a suitable place to stop from where we could view the sky. It was to be away from the lights that we came here, to view a far more distant and ancient light. The glowing head of a comet, so cold, so far away. It was warm in the car, protected from the chill of the night. There was also a closeness between father and son. A shared moment. I also felt a strange sadness. The comet, so alien and alone. A cold and distant object.
We drove to the little bay with a view of Southampton water. Father and son in another shared moment. This time it was father in the role of son. We saw the huge ship make her way majestically - appropriately so, because she was the Queen Mary II - towards the port. A distant object, silent from where we stood.
Motifs for cold, silent and distant objects abound. We must create warmth, break the silences and embrace closeness.
A river of thoughts snakes through a strange landscape under a pale moon, and that river is me: Sometimes deep and fast, sometimes slow and dreamy, with secret currents that can warm or chill. Spend a while on my banks and dangle your feet in my waters. I am also the snake and the moon. And maybe a poet.
