There was a time when I dreamed of a symphony, when my thoughts were effortlessly melded with another’s, dancing with the ebb and flow of life. Moving in and out of each other’s psyche the tendrils of the bond binding us inextricably no matter the distance or time between us. It was a freedom unknown to the world outside, experienced wholly within each other’s mind. Such music to lift the very soul and remove it from it’s earthly cage, rapture complete and time everlasting. If I listen carefully I hear the echoes still, stirring deep within my mind.
Somewhere along the way the notes became discordant and the tendrils of the bond our prison and not our escape. The freedom found in the motion was stayed and the palpable pain a searing heat which scorched the fabric of our hearts. And yet the melody of love was still as liltingly sweet, refusing to break down like the tuneless chords of our tattered communication. Yet no matter how we conducted, the symphony would not be remade, the blending became obstacle and the instruments broken and worn with our fruitless efforts.
There was a time when I dreamed of a symphony and if I listen carefully I hear the echoes still, stirring deep within my mind, the lilting melody ever so sweet. An addictive poison, the knowledge of what I once danced within and can never have again. Tonight I mourn the lost symphony and I feel him mourning still within me.
2 December 2007 3.12 am
Copyright R.Weal 2007