Notes, September 2024
I travelled far, but it was only a moment, a second, a blink of an eye. I went far while waiting for that short sigh, followed by the peace in the eyes. The ‘’far” that wasn’t there yesterday. It was waiting. I felt that space and time. I was waiting, too.
It arrived. The beginning could be seen, the beginning of that long road. I do have company while walking – it’s always someone there. Yet I was alone, waiting for part two.
It arrived quickly.
We were all standing when it came. We were looking at it as it was coming closer through the clouds. We were all there, side by side. The wistfulness was in our eyes. The heaviness was standing between our bodies and our arms. She was standing alone, not waiting for us. She didn’t ask if we wanted her. She was there. Ready.
We stood peacefully, side by side. Love stood between us.
The love that warms. The one that came invited.
It arrived after it had been sent and enveloped us peacefully.
She was quiet and soft. She gives everything alone.
She gives only.
Do you remember when we were standing? When we were waiting quietly? Do you remember when we were all looking towards the sky? We were alone, at one place, on concrete blocks, surrounded by meadow, a runway, and the sky. We were looking peacefully towards the sky. Blinking and waiting.
Do you know how it was?
How the waiting felt?
Do you know who was there?
Do you remember?
Do you recall bus number 72, which we had been waiting for so long? We waited for it together. We stood for hours, days and years. Fantasy in our eyes – fear in our hearts. We didn’t talk. We didn’t sing. We stood alone at that very place. Empty was the street before us. A vacant bus stop with us waiting. We looked at each other from time to time. Our eyes met while the clock was slowly ticking. Our breath was still, our forehead relaxed. The gaze was wandering, searching and hoping. Our eyes met in silence and solitude. In fear and wistfulness. The smile was shy. Shy and quiet. Like us.
It came fast.
“The fast” that arrives at the address.
“The fast” that arrives on time.
You don’t remember, do you? You don’t remember bus number 72, neither the runway nor the sky. You don’t recall the wistfulness in the eyes, or the heaviness between us. The still breath and the shy smile.
You don’t. As it quickly arrived.
You don’t. For it’s already there.