What a curious thing the mind is. Answer me this; why is it I should awake from a dream, but this time it seems the dream is far less important? Just then, as awakening, recall vividly a very specific look from you? Not only that look, but others and even occasionally short, seemingly isolated comments – but of those, a little later, I may treat.

With that look, in my minds eye, the flooding back of recall. At 4.40 a.m.there is what I might call there before me ‘the girl’. Of course she is less so the girl that you would have been, at any specific age. No, this transcends time, ageing, maturity; surely, it is ‘below the horizon of time’. Just this, is the latterly realised delight in me, as I write. ‘She’ momentarily, looks direct at you, but maybe the head held a little askance. Fixes you, but gently, across that space. Now, it might have been a table length between us, other times just centimetres. But the point is it usually arrived at me with a smile and I really could have sensed (but sometimes did not) that certain contraction, nullification of space. With that, let’s say ‘hey, surprise, we’ve arrived, smile’ sun-beam; that slight variance, of head ‘cockiness’ – signs, to know, to soak in! Sometimes, but don’t rely on this, accompanied, by a short remark, ‘your hair … ‘still got those eyes’ – but it’s less of that. It’s all about presence, that agility to ‘see’ the almost unseen. To sense, to take in and act (or not) in that very moment of change.

But, what I ask myself, do I have now? The disconsolate ‘monkey’ says, ‘you have nothing, but these thoughts, these hypothetical scenarios in your notebook. For this is it, this present; you are held within another place, projects, gazes. Reality, what is that; well only what reaches you. it might shout off the page ‘yah boo, so what?! Too late!

But then, these gems of wisdom shine in their own light. Two candles may flicker, shift shape frequently, but the connecting current of air has its moments of stillness and then each is a steady upright source, illuminating each other. That new recollection, held in fresh clarity, is something I will carry forwards with me. Who knows, in another time, across another space, or table, there is always all the other possibilities, even of another life truly ‘seen’ and touched.

“See you”, in my mind, at this ‘silly hour’, so clear! I must really give some thanks for the craziness and lucidity of it all, this life! He, who writes himself out, of the feeling void, thanks you, for a little saving insight. For now, its packed away, safely, here – heart.