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Facing the rising tide #2

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I don’t know why it started, why you arrived here or why it is you. I don’t know how you lit the germ of hope or what it will mean in the future. Yes, I had my line paid out, fishing for something in the coming darkness. But maybe it was just for the look of the thing, out of principal rather than hope. Despite helpful friends I looked to myself to survive. Stoic, isolated and ready for the worst.

How can I tell you of the shadow pursuing, the loneliness of wanting and desperation of waiting. How can I show how the spaces of health between sickness were filled, the rising shadow of worry and helplessness, the white noise aggregate of fatigue and pain. How can I tell you how the blurring of hope, the wishful sound of distant engines, jet planes and wind in leaves, all faded in and out with the lazy pulses of our first clear calm night.

Ever since we… ever since we… you know. Ever since it became possible to hope, to feel, to touch. Ever since it became possible to think of places where friends and those close can join us to stand or sit or play. It’s now impossible to hide from potential, easier to forsee a time when pain and sickness are blasted away by light.

Ever since then I look at the roofs and the chimneys. I look at the rising sun, at reflections in windows, at buildings and rain and roads and the sky. I wait, think of the future, talk with friends or stay reverently silent. I accept the rising tide of your comfort, know that the darkness and exhaustion will end with relief and wait...

What do you think will happen when it's over. Tell me if you can, please... What happens next

in answer to

Posted by Dhamaka

19th Sep 2009, 23:42  


I like how the wording on the last line or two changes when I hit "refresh" on my browser. :D (I edit the hell out of mine after posting, too -- I see things that I miss when I write in a tiny scrolling window.)

It's really hard to write about hope without it sounding too Platonic, too cheesy, but my god you've done it here. It's all so very human. Awesome. :)

And the photo is fantastic too. Subdued and grayed-out mundane shapes and the warm suffusing lemony glow... Very appropriate!

Each time you've followed up one of my themes it's been such a tremendous compliment!


20th Sep 2009, 00:23

Puddikat says:

This is beautiful :)

20th Sep 2009, 09:13

Dhamaka says:

thank you Puddikat

Laszlo - I know it's not as well written an answer as the last one (I didn't think it sensible to stay up past midnightish to make it better... besides which in a way the whole thing's induced by chemo-brain so it shouldn't be any other way) so thank you very much for the compliment.

It's not difficult to take up your themes. They're all great, I love your twists and darknesses, have enormous fun turning your words around and wish I had more time to do this kind of thing.

The photo.. it was one of those days when, still in bed the rising sun showed itself to me as a reflection. Incredible experience, I'm pleased that I managed to capture the moment well enough to share.

20th Sep 2009, 16:03