He could see it in her eyes the way she looked at him from behind the screen. her hand reached out to touch her son who had returned. The reinstated gentleness in him as obvious to her as the colour of the fields or the taste of hot tea after a walk of a stormy day.
The blood flowing in his veins cleaned and cleared, his mind behind his own eyes softer, more aware of the world around him, with memories fleeting but still there to be welcomed for the precious time until they flittered back behind doors not locked but jammed shut in need of prising open when the inclination would come upon him. Sometimes they just swing open on their own accord. A glimpse of beauty wrapped in a gift of feelings and images and heightened sensory delights.
he recognises in himself the words of the nurse. “when your mother says no she means no” with a smile on her lips for the respect for a woman of determined mind while it roams in a desert of uncertainty and fear.
In himself he embraces the gentleness. his words comforting his soul as he listens to conversations and recognises a calmness he lost among the chaos and the process of living.
not that the time between gentle tides was anything but filled with wonder and joy too. the ebb and flow on the sunny beach needs the ocean’s scream to sing the mellow tune of peace.
(c) Frankie McGivney 10/05/2021 (feeling blessed)
Does the laughter make the truth you speak more palatable or more interesting. When I talk and their expressions fade to blank and you wonder is it because they know more than you , is there some secret fountain of knowledge from which they can easily scoop another dram of facts, a cup you are not privy to its location.
Or do they not get what you are saying or trying to say. Does it go over their heads or is it so boring as to float on by their consciousness
And you can make them laugh sometimes they probably giggle too much to the point of potentially embarrassing physical reactions.
But do they hear the thoughts behind the humour . Do the theories pass unnoticed . Does the inquisitions of my mind to touch those bits of humanity beyond my grasp register in their minds
Who realises the true vocation of the clown to reveal the audacity of the kings new clothes made of invisible thread
When they tell me their fibs do they ever realise I know. Do they fool themselves to believe their attempt at fooling me works. Does the ability to smile and ignore the lies make me more or less of a man. So easy to answer because of course it depends. Sometimes acceptance of others attempts at deception is a kindness to them. Other times a kindness to myself because I don’t care enough to point out the fallacy of their fiction.
Then there’s the beauty of the opening of the eyes when someone of the same realises you have recognised their own explorations of the world around us. The meeting of the eyes as minds embrace in a search for revelations beyond the common tongue
(C) frankie Mcgivney (falling asleep and wanting to keep writing but the eyes fail where the mind strives to explore)
We are the mice that fall into the cream and while others drown , we fight and fight, to churn the cream to butter and survive. I read that just now in kevin duttons book the wisdom of pyschopaths. Interesting stuff to say the least. The predominance of people exhibiting the traits of psychopaths in the higher echelons of society is amazing. It isn’t all about the killers they are the berserkers we need as protection. Their survival fits into Darwinian theory of evolution in a very convincing way. They can see you vulnerability and act on it.