Karenina

A thousand ways to die, a thousand ways to kill, the mind, the soul, that is mine.

On the edge of sidewalk curb she stands and waits. But wait for what? For the cars to stop so she can cross...or for a speeding car with absent-minded driver, distracted perhaps by a cell phone? Staring into oncoming cars, mounting thoughts tangling onto each other, her dress flowing with the wind of passing cars, she is Anna Karenina in her final moments.

Two thousand pound metal comes to a screeching halt...

What would the impact feel like? What sound would it make? How many million thoughts would go through the mind? At what precise moment would it shut down? And the mangling of the body...to what extent?

Hush now, close eyes and sleep, for another thousand deaths wait for me tomorrow.

030301

It was just as I had seen in my vision, the first of three that I have had. There at the vestibule I stood, looking inside the chapel where afternoon sun filtering in through the stained glass windows cast warm soft lights on the altar. The church was only half full with guests who all stood and looked my way. Far away stood a man waiting for me. To my right stood his father, not mine, about to escort me down the aisle adorned with white organza. In white dress with small pearl trims, white satin opera gloves, white cathedral length veil draping over my bare shoulders and holding a bouquet of white tulips wrapped in white silk, I stepped out onto the white satin lined aisle, convincing myself all the while that the second vision I had just the day before--of impending divorce--was only an imagination.

That was five years ago today. Five years. It now feels no more than a remnant of memory from a life previous to this.

080217

He was rowing me across a body of water in a small wooden boat. A faceless man, he was an assassin by trade, I overheard someone say. The water was calm and I felt equally calm at heart. When we reached the other side, the man simply vanished into thin air. I sat there a while as the boat rocked gently from side to side, occasionally banging against the dock. Then I grabbed the oars and rowed back to where I came from.

Back on this side of shore, wedding preparations were under way. I was to be the reluctant bride marrying a man I had never met before. I regretted leaving in the land of Hades to come back to this.

080213

Leaving the office this evening, I was greeted by an unexpected mist of rain. 9:30 P.M., the clock read. I paused and stood in front of the storefront window staring at the wet pavement. I might have been better prepared for the second coming of Jesus Christ.

Driving home, the mist turned into light but steady drops. Suddenly I remembered my poor neglected rosemary tree out in the balcony. Remembrance, they say it means.

Eventually, we will forget to remember. If we're lucky, we will realize later that we forgot to remember. But it's not today and it won't be tomorrow. The oblivion will come later, some day, a distant day of aftertime.

080211

Silent dreams, fading words, weary mind.
My mind wanders through time and distance like Oedipus through the lands of Greece.I lean my ears on the speaker and take refuge in Schubert.