I wrote two posts about nothing in particular since last night. Went out, walked about,found the doors of a temple closed.
Nature versus Nurture debate is ‘reading for class’ yet it kept me awake all night, most of the night. Does success have to do with nature or nurture? From broad general considerations popped out a plaintive quest -ion: am I not right bang in the middle of where I always wanted to be? And yet…
In daylight I read through the Larkin and Charlotte Mew GCSE poems. The poems are about trees but in effect about suffering in life and death. From the urban tenth floor you can only see a canopy of green leaves of the trees, and they don’t make sense.
Only one ship is seeking us, a black-
Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back
A huge and birdless silence. In her wake
No waters breed or break.
(“Next, Please” by P. Larkin)
The doors of the temple were shut yet prayers rose on the wings of hope, up through the ether… sometimes it ought to be easier to die.