Saturday, November 23, 2013

On epiphany

On returning, I got out of my car and started across the parking lot in the darkness, a pre-dawn phantom with keys jingling. The sky was wide, dark, clear, framed by trees. The bright band of galaxy and moon seemed somehow closer than before. The milky way pulled across it tightly. Gravity never pushes.

I stopped, still. I could nearly sense the movement of the many stars, though not through senses. There is also that sense of sense that the mind makes; a repository of experiences, a cache of half-remembered adventures. Memories inform, haunt us.

Just another morning, spent alone.

It is a déjà vu.

I have already seen it all. It has also appeared before me, on departing.