Una
Write something, even if it’s just a suicide note.
- Feb 28, 2020
- 87
Earlier today I thought I might like to write a few words.
In a way of 'thank you' for all I have learned on the forum, and an apology for a thread I started couple of days ago but deleted it soon after.
But I see that I cannot do either of those things. For in writing, like in life, one must claim one's place as one's own.
I never had a place to claim as my own. In writing or in life.
Like a seed lost to a wind, I have wondered this way and that. Looking through the windows of other people's houses. At fires being lit in hearths. Old candelabras placed in the middle of a long, wooden tables. For families to gather around.
For a moment, as brief as a breath, I felt what love is. An angel's wing. I let it fly away before to learn how to keep it. How to keep it safe. It is the gravest of sins.
Still, it is a word I am seeking.
A better, more fitting word than grateful.
It is humble, I feel. For it is only when one is brought to one's bare knees that life reveals itself. And even then, only as a glimpse. The splendour and the vastness of it blinding to a naked eye. It is only heart that could see it. Which is why heart goes last.
I leave in awe of life. The brilliance of its heights and the darkness of its depths.
Both have humbled me.
Thank you,
Una
In a way of 'thank you' for all I have learned on the forum, and an apology for a thread I started couple of days ago but deleted it soon after.
But I see that I cannot do either of those things. For in writing, like in life, one must claim one's place as one's own.
I never had a place to claim as my own. In writing or in life.
Like a seed lost to a wind, I have wondered this way and that. Looking through the windows of other people's houses. At fires being lit in hearths. Old candelabras placed in the middle of a long, wooden tables. For families to gather around.
For a moment, as brief as a breath, I felt what love is. An angel's wing. I let it fly away before to learn how to keep it. How to keep it safe. It is the gravest of sins.
Still, it is a word I am seeking.
A better, more fitting word than grateful.
It is humble, I feel. For it is only when one is brought to one's bare knees that life reveals itself. And even then, only as a glimpse. The splendour and the vastness of it blinding to a naked eye. It is only heart that could see it. Which is why heart goes last.
I leave in awe of life. The brilliance of its heights and the darkness of its depths.
Both have humbled me.
Thank you,
Una
