Closing time

Train ride at late hour. Tom Waits is singing a melancholy closing time, putting me in the right mood to roam in between thoughts.

Slowly, the train crawls though the grey suburbia of some German town. No housing. Just fields. The odd factory building, at hazy night light assuming an almost portly stature. Around it there’s empty space. Anywhere, yet nowhere. Can’t see what’s in front of me or what I’ve left behind.

… and a lazy old tomcat on a midnight spree, all that you left me was a melody …

It is dark outside. Wafts of mist close in on the autumnal surroundings. Funnel-shaped, they billow in warm, orangey street lantern light. The atmosphere is spectral. Serene. Shapes born from my thoughts gently roam in rhythm with the train’s rattling.

Tom is replaced by Bruce whose words speak my telltale heart.

… may your precious blood bind me, Lord as I stand before your fiery light …

There’s always been darkness.

As well as all exceeding, joyful light. Noone‘s ever known my fantasy world. Of imagination, peace and trust. Of love and rhythm. Of pictures and stories, of playfulness and blinking awe before the vast knowledge to be gathered in this boundless universe. Of an all embracing love for the natural world and the possibilities of human imagination and creativity.

… may I feel your arms around me. May I feel your blood mix with mine.
A dream of life comes to me; like a catfish dancing on the end of my line …

Long gone.

Bruce again. Ol‘ boss always finds the right words to save a life within 180 seconds.

There‘s a way to come to terms with one’s own melancholia. I’m sure. Must be.
Maybe you would understand. Would I?

Aren‘t our ways of being haunted – our beliefs in calmer times, equally vast?

Your demons sure are different from mine. Could you share yours with me? Would you be prepared for mine? In a world we create of our own?

… sky of blackness and sorrow. Sky of love, sky of tears
sky of glory and sadness. Sky of mercy, sky of fear
sky of memory and shadow. Your burning wind fills my arms tonight
sky of longing and emptiness. Sky of fullness, sky of blessed life …

A fooled heart, beating fast in search of new dreams.

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