This Author, to a casual observer, would appear to have finished with travelling, and to have put down roots in Kuching, Sarawak Malaysia. Not so. Only one thing is certain if certainty at all interests his reader ~ he has reached a place within himself he intuitively started towards more than half a century ago. A place called Nehwyreve. A place with no beginning and end. Not a beach or a mountain. Not intersecting lines on a chart but an ever expanding point in his universe that is a single memory of existing. His Big Bang.





Here upon its eyrie, a hilltop fastness
Blasted from above by cobalt blue sky.

In air so clear that glancing cuts the eye
Floats the fairytale palace of an Infanta.

A towel for her crown; an audience of one,
Duennas of granite and glass guard her well.

Ice crystal and fire caress steel and stone,
Turrets looming; glaring towers are sentinel.

Pandering to grandees and grimacing goblins
Lorca’s silence is an impossibly vast cathedral.

Vociferously vain madrilenos flock in the sun,
Their pride’s flower a timeless bloody passion.

 Language, food, sex and death prevail here,
As staples in an ordinary life embraced by all.

This passerby, traveller from lands without
Only sharing in their numbed world for a price.

The body for its own very practical reasons must and does rest, but the heart and the soul continue vigorously on their way to the conclusion of the Life’s journey, ignoring a flagging body’s commands to cease and settle. Rejecting demands to comply with the lock step it was born into. Denying the significance of any one geographic place over another except in it’s facilitation and support of the dream that is a Life.

Upon a beach in his sanctuary’s domain another was brought ashore by chance. One who he recognised. One who he understood was his to protect. Who time had obliged him to consider; of his Self. He is now  joined together with that other through their separate but entwined journeys. She, who has always been there alone, upon a journey of her own, but to the same place.

The heart’s guide is no wiser than the heart; its will is its authority in all things.

Stranger travellers meeting in a caravanserai where commitments of support and succour to the journey’s end are made. A virtual kiss’s seal on a marriage, as a contract in love’s law, and the bonding Good Companions would have.

Together after years apart they celebrate their reunion in a world where all time is Now for them. A long sweet gentle moment of consumation for lovers who have met before, and may never meet again. A sanctuary in time for dreams not innocent.  A sweet understanding ~ a meeting place at the edge of that darkness they will both enter happily, in good time.

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