Tag Archives: circle

He lost a dream in the night. He would see it differently if he had to walk that way again. He would tread mindfully on the hallowed ground of night. But now was present. In a circle, there is no going back.

Patiently, patiently, making little circles with the stick. It becomes the black liquid so slowly, so slowly. There could be no rushing, no rushing. The scraping, the scraping on the grey slate. Tiny drops, still more tiny drops. It shimmers and shivers, but holds unfirm. Then, one more and it flows. The waiting is done. The reward is release. The circle is complete.

The ancient muses came and carved a new niche. In it, they placed the most unlikely inspiration. The circle was complete. The circle was always complete.