Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Among the Graves

From One Hand Clapping, dated April 5, 2004, this waking dream:

In restless sleep I walked the sinewy streets of an ancient city, searching for someone or something I had lost. The stone walls spoke in great waves of scented color, bearing a message of music and light. Strangers knew me, and welcomed me into their homes. In an outpouring of kindness, they showed me the graves they had long kept hidden in their hearts. Perhaps what you are looking for is here, they said. I wandered among the graves. I found there all the strangers knew, all they remembered, all they had forgotten, everything they had said, the deeds they had done, and the promises they had yet to fulfill. But the someone or something I had lost, I did not find. I offered them my gratitude. We wept together and sang together. Then they followed me to the edge of the city and watched as I traveled on. And I wondered: who are they? And how is it that I know them so well, but still do not know myself?

In the Forum: a long line outside a rural reading room.


Anthony Duce said...

I like this very much.

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Anthony.

nouvelles couleurs - vienna atelier said...

maybe we must not try to find the past, but to find in the present a new reason of live

this is whot I see in this write,
anyway this interpretation made me happy and full of hope for the futur...

it is so delicate and strong the way you write, I like this way so much

good night

William Michaelian said...

Good night, Laura. Thank you.

all ways 11 o'clock said...

William -

The searching and the kindness here juxtaposed is amazing. There is comfort in the company of strangers and the ever remaining question of self.
Great piece.


William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Robert. And I know now that you must have been there as well.

Woman in a Window said...

I think what I like the most in this piece is the crying and the singing, for this is what we do in loss, grieve, and yet celebrate for what came before. It runs deeply within us.

And yet no matter the looking to the past, it is so difficult to see the self, no matter the filter.

Beautiful dreaming, William.


William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Erin. Reading it again now, I just remembered what I was thinking when I wrote this six years ago — that this particular dream spans an entire lifetime.