Thoughts from a Tent (Jan 67)
The Shackleton reconnaissance team was on its way home and had stopped in
the Theron Mountains for a few days rest. For the first time for many
weeks we enjoyed idleness, and as I lay in the tent very much at peace with
myself and the world, my mind started to wander back to scenes I'd left
behind.
Snug, warm, relaxed,
I lie complacent,
Contented with my little world;
My disassociated, orange, pyramidal world,
My simple world whose length and breadth
I traverse in two paces;
Whose every content
Known, named and numbered.
I have everything I want.
I am my own master,
And master of this world.
Here is security, comfort
But seemingly misplaced
And lost
Lost midst million upon million
Of miles of ice.
A harsh, inhospitable white desert;
Blaringly bleak
Blank
Barren.
But I am happy and at peace
I have every thing I want;
My eyes close....
I commence my transcendence
To the other world
The world of my imagination
Of dreams
"You have everything."
Says a small contented voice
Within my mind.
The fabric of my world
Dissolves away
Translucence
Transparence,
A window.
I gaze through this window of time and space
Upon another place
And there is no ice, no snow, no solitude
("Everything you want?" asks the voice)
Here is warmth.
A roaring log fire in the hearth
And here too are people
Many people
Laughing, talking, drinking
Everyone happy to be
In one another's company,
Yet all are strangers to me.
Save one....
("Everything you want?" the voice wavers)
Save one,
One who for me spells perfection;
Across the room I see her silhouette
Her thickly black and softly waving hair
Her exquisite form.
I sense her beauty
Her excitement....
("Everything?"... nothing
The voice collapses in despair)
I look with longing
A deep heart rending yearning
I will her to turn
To return
To me
Display for me your beauty
Your dimpled laughing charm
Please....
At last she turns
Sees and recognises me;
She starts with surprise
In pleasure
And starts again, forward.
Oh what joy is to be mine
To hear again that tinkling scintillating laughter,
To catch the stars
A blue heaven
Of twinkling, tinkling stars in her eyes
A paradise of joy, of merriment and femininity
A whirlpool of delight
Drawing me inexorably closer
Closer
Closer...
But two paces betwixt us,
But two seconds before we meet,
E're we kiss....
But they are paces of an infinite league
Seconds of an infinite hour
Our separation is an eon,
All this in one window pane
One window of pain.
My joy is broken
The earth chortles,
The heavens smile with knowing cynicism
The clouds cry crystallised, crocodile tears
Which, caught in the guffaws of mocking wind
Splash and splatter upon the window
Deforming, distorting, contorting
That once so lovely image.
And now nothing
The window solidifies
Orange and opaque
The wind shrieks with buffeting laughter
And gathering handfuls of snow crystals
Hurls them with derision
At my window
That accursed orange window
Of my now so empty world.