THE DRAFT POST-
The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam, 1859:
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it
For nearly two months the words have been ready to publish. I did not publish immediately after pouring them out onto my keyboard- I hesitated- maybe these words just needed to be written to be lanced from my festering psyche . I decided to wait a few weeks to see if I still felt as strongly .
My mother sat at her dining room table and wrote pages after “the self-same happenstance” , and then she ripped the pages into shreds. She needed to see it , to release her pain and anger. The act, whilst cleansing, really didn’t help. The written word although gone leaves its mark still on the pad.
I revisit the “Draft” from time to time – I read the words- wait to see if the pain and anger have subsided somewhat during the weeks it has waited-
The pain, anger and disbelief haven’t dissipated one iota- it is unfinished – so I will publish tomorrow the words that paint the picture of my perspective.
Thought went into this – more thought than was given to the acts of perpetrators of our pain but it may make some uncomfortable …….. so “fair warning” to those that subscribe and to readers……it is my reaction and my truth ………… and as a reader Susie said in a recent comment
It would serves us all well to remember that silence is acceptance.
. and I do not accept what has happened………