No specific examples come to mind, but
this sounds like something that describes me – it just feels right.
I thought that if I just began to write about it, perhaps it would
come through in this writing. Maybe this gift is something that comes
through natural discourse and can’t be forced. Nothing yet …
maybe I need to think about it.
I’ve lost interest. It does describe
me. Moving on now … I leave you with a poem I found.
I’ve begun my voyage in a paper boat
without a bottom;
I will fly to the moon in it.
I have been folded along a crease in
time,
a weakness in the sheet of life.
Now, you’ve settled on the opposite
side of the paper to me;
I can see your traces in the ink that
soaks through the fibre,
the pulped vegetation.
When we become waterlogged, and the
cage disintegrates,
we will intermingle.
When this paper aeroplane leaves the
cliff edge,
and carves parallel vapour trails in
the dark,
we will come together.
I am the aerial.
In my passing,
I will send news to each and every
star.
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- A pilgrim & sojourner