Maybe here where we can write no postcards, we wonder, why is the sky is so grey? Is this the promised end? Along the horizon we glide as birds scarcely moving a wing, longing to cross into another age, to see that side of life that we could never see before. When darkness arrives we return to the lapping shore only to find the water has grown heavy and bitter with so many destinations to fulfill – water that tirelessly reflects the twitching lights of tall, glittering towers.
Saturday, March 5, 2016
That Side of Life
Perhaps when morning sets in and the coolness of night moves out into the plumage of birds, we resolve once again to make a new start. Taking the hands of our sons and daughters we board a boat and sail off leaving the city behind until, as far as the eye can see, there is nothing else but sky.