If life has a base that it stands upon, if it
is a bowl that one fills and fills and fills---then my bowl without a doubt
stands upon this memory. It is of hearing the waves breaking, one, two, one,
two, and sending a splash of water over the beach; and then breaking, one, two,
one, two, behind a yellow blind. It is of hearing the blind draw its little
acrorn across the floor as the wind blew the blind out. It is of lying and
hearing this splash and seeing this light, and feeling, it is almost impossible
that I should be here; of feeling the purest ecstasy I can conceive."
A Sketch of the Past" (MOB 64-5)
No comments:
Post a Comment