friday 14 august 2009

Page Seventeen


So many songs and lyricless pieces of music wander through my mind, and they are in my memory note for note. But I don’t let them stay too long before pushing them away. I can hardly bear them appearing in my mind, much less to listen to them on radio or CD. Years’ and years’ worth of music learned in my own life, when I had animals and homes. Folk music, classical, new age, popular, all unable now to be faced because my 55 years of having homes and animals are gone, gone, for 17 months now.

Love is sacred. That’s a corny thing to say I suppose, but it is. The death of one you love is sacred. I first began to learn about the sacredness of love and death with animals, as a little girl. I was much, much slower with that learning when it came to people.

Matthew hasn’t learned it yet, and maybe never will. For him the job is sacred, and he could never move beyond that to make love sacred. If you want to know who Matthew is, well, he’s spread around this website and appears, I think, on each of the nine blogs. If you come back again, no doubt you’ll find him sometime.

And I, in this new existence that is not my life, and having been caught up for a long time with bizarre and distressing things that Matthew told me, have to return to what’s sacred for me. It’s extremely painful, because returning to it is full of grief and loss and anger. But all the trips to Turners Falls are about wandering around in what is, and was, sacred for me.

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 all photos, graphics, poems and text copyright 2009-2011 by anne nakis, unless otherwise stated. all rights reserved.