monday grumps: the light
26/07/2010 § Leave a comment
I didn’t move all night. Eyes sliding open, left lid lingering over a slight pain in the temple, mouth still dry from too much of a lot of things. For the moment, in between sleep and consciousness, I remember the dreams. They were vivid and clear, as if I could reach out and grab an arm, run my fingers through the hair, all from the first-person perspective –unlike my usual third-person observer. The dream was so busy that my body, here lying on the pillow top, was conserving energy by being still. Glancing at the clock, I tried to figure out how time could leap from moments when eyelids close and sight is trapped in the dark to when they open filtering in colour and light. Light years had passed in the night. Tony told me, yesterday, that they found a star 3 or 300 times bigger than the sun. It is 26 light years away, just over a quarter of a light century. Imagine traveling on a river of light for a quarter of any century, your image transported for years just to show yourself to others and prove you exist. And it does not stop there. It keeps traveling on the river, thick and milky, stopping by and touching only those things that can see or sense it. The image remains, and the light keeps expanding, but it does not grow, it stays the same. It affects more creatures every minute, every day, every year all on its own pace. I wonder if it carries a stick with a dirty, cloth-wrapped bundle over its shoulder. I wonder if it is alone on its raft or in good company. I wonder if it feels lost, trying to find a place to rest, close its eyes into darkness, breaking the light-day from the light-night, being still but always burning bright. I wonder if it drinks or dreams or if it knows it does not move.