A Walk In The Park!

One two, one two, one two, one two, one two, left right, left right, left right, left right,
My mind, is no, long-er, my own, the rhy-,thm of, my steps, has tak-, en cen-, tre stage, in what, is left, of my, con-scious, my eyes, are fixed, on the, ho ri-, zon there, is no-, thing there, I have, no in-, tent the, rhy- thm, is all, I can, not stop, it will, not let, go of, its grip, I do, not know, how much, long- er, I can, go On.,.,.,.,.,.,

>The memory of the first time I saw her, I mean really saw her, still haunts me. When it comes into my mind, its appearance is like that of a mist rolling off a hill.

It was a beautiful summer’s day and although it was too hot to remain in direct sunlight for any length of time, the shade from the fruit trees all around had produced the perfect dappling effect that ebbed and flowed like the tide lapping at a shore, as a gentle breeze rippled through the branches above.

I was sitting with an extended circle of friends, with a picnic blanket spread out in front of us. The cheese, sausisson, pate, bread, fruit and wine completed this most perfect of French experiences. We were in the environs of Paris much loved and painted by such masters as Monet and Picasso; L’isle Adam. And then she came from across the other side of the small wood, from the small detached house of her parents, carrying the utensils for our feast………

I do, not know, how long, I have, been wal-, king I, have seen, the sun, come and, go man-, y times, foll-owed, by the, moon I, could nev-, er be, sure of, an-y, thing now, my mind, is pla-, ying tricks, on me, my mouth, is cracked, and blist, er-ed I, have not, had a, drink since, I star-, ted to, get a-, way.,.,.,.,.,.,

Her toes led; and they picked her way through the long grass that separated her from us with a grace and poetry I have seldom seen before. Her beauty, although some what wild and untamed in comparison to her Parisian counter parts, was totally at one with her present surroundings. Her autumnal, auburn hair floated on the breeze as her natural grace carried her closer to us and the vision of her passing through the dappled sunshine and shade under the trees burned itself into my memory; and as she arrived at the group and began to sit down, her left hand came up and attempted to pin back her hair behind her left ear.

Our feelings quickly fell into the classic push-pull dance of love. Burning with desire one moment, confusion and anger the next. The intensity of our mutual experiences convincing us that it must be real. As they developed, this intensity grew, as did our feeling of its validity; until neither of us had any control of our actions and we surrendered our-selves to our fate. Neither of us had ever loved any one like this. The ecstasy, sublime; the confusion, spiteful.

Our respective emotional personalities seemed as destined to be together as a two piece jigsaw. No other would fit so perfectly, no other could induce such a wealth of emotional responses. Until the lines between us blurred to such an extent that both blamed the other for what was happening in our own little world. Once that barrier is breeched, the outcome is assured. Only the timing is uncertain…….

My legs, are weak, they shake, with the, ex- hau-, stion but, still I, can not, stop my, feet bea-, ting out, their rhy-, thm.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

My foot, catch-es, the ground, and I, can not, stop my, fall my, knees hit, the floor, I rest, there for, one mo-, ment and, then my, face hits, the ground, a plume, of dust, rise-es, and coats, my mouth.

I can..... Not move....... Now

I have no energy left. My eyelids are stuck open. My eyes having no lubrication, have fused with the lids, and the vision passing through them and into my brain, I’m sure, will be the last.

Three bands of colour, is all that I can see. Nearest my right eye where my head rests on the parched, barren earth, small fissures have opened up in the bland yellow band that stretches off to the horizon; which, due to the position of my head runs from top to bottom of my vision. On top of this, separating the earth from the sky is the silvery grey-ish band of water vapour that shimmers; and blurs all light passing through it into a seething opaque, mass of iridescent colours, as the merciless heat leaves the earth and ascends into the sky above until its energy is spent.

The air that leaves my mouth kicks up small clouds of the earth near it, and when it is time to take air back in, some of the dust cloud comes with it, coating my already dry, blistered throat further. Each breath feels like a cloud of small knives rushing down my throat and into my lungs. And each cycle of breath, from the pain that ensues, seems to be opening the cracks further.

Time has lost all its normal meaning. I’ve been in this position no more than a day, I’m pretty sure of that. For although my mind is playing tricks on me, I still have enough of a grip on reality to be sure that the sun has only once traversed from top to bottom of my vision. But in the reality of my mind this period of ‘time’ has as much significance and meaning as all that has passed before it. The realities of my memories intertwine with my present to weave a new life time that mirrors the eternity of the present.

My breathing is becoming more laboured with each cycle. The rhythm is slowing; slower; stopped....But this moment is eternal.

M.J.Hamilton