(Cheryl Garner, 2013)
The thoughts are drops which form and roll,
Are watched a while like birds or breath,
Like everything that they are not.
Within themselves there is no “like”.
To journey and become again.
To be a thought amongst the thoughts.
To pass beyond all hope and loss.
To be the emptiness of thought.
When nothing is the world, there is
In golden light, in umber night,
In waveforms scattered out: there is
No space but space, no time but time.
There is a thought which rolls and forms:
A single drop of all there is.
Journal Entry – 23/11/1998
I am remembering a moment.
Time is ours and space was ours and neither belong or were. We had just been to the bank to pay in a cheque. The weather was dull and we decided to have lunch at one of our usual cafes. It was a typical lunch break. After the usual coffee and cake we stopped off at the gallery on The Mound. In there we saw the paintings: a Grünewald and a Cranach. The Cranach was his version of Melancholia. I never saw you in the same light again. The beauty of your rapture was something I remember now, on a train going in the wrong direction on a dull November. You never did take me with you, and the memory is still not enough.
Photography by Cheryl Garner (2013)
Poetry by thecheesewolf (2013)
Train Journal by Gavin Jones (1998)