You remember the piece I wrote about the radar station. I was onto something; I mean that the metaphor is true for me at some pretty fundamental level. I was just struck by this realization and ran off from the bathroom half naked in the cold.
And how?
If I am the storm creator then you have to be the radar, just wonderfully symbiotic, in the nature of this particular so different –resonance on its way to a symphony. And do you see that you have already been, this gift of look ahead – my vanity adds “even enhanced by my presence” my heart says “no, no, no shut up, this is her not just before you, with you or after you, but before time and after time, eternal.”.
When you said this morning, “I know I will get there”, I nearly (or maybe I did) went all wordy there, “hey don’t think about it… blah blah blah”. And an inch away from the bath water it struck me, this is symphony.
Now resonance is passé.
It may even be more layered, in fact I believe it is. You emote with a flush of passionate intensity and your radar is of the short range, up close kind, vigilant in the milliseconds.
I emote with a flow of words that stretch out long twenty five act plays and my radar is the long range, look ahead one.
We both look after each other, without patriarchy and without protection even though we may swim in waters whose one swirl has perhaps its whiff.
kalpaean 