Shadow Dancer

Shadow Dancer

the music starts

beating its wings through the air

like soft vibrations of sound

the dancer moves

leaving the reflection

of her being

etched on the granules of our retina

in rich colours of brown and blue

The Passing of the Days


Drawing of Fernando Pessoa by Keith Fitton

These last couple of weeks have been a struggle. Disturbed nights combined with a feverish head cold have merged into days filled with throbbing twitching, burning, crushing pain that contorts my body. Of course this is nothing new. Since the accident in 2004 I have lived to the accompaniment of this particular drumbeat. But when anxiety seizes hold of my being, the pain intensifies and wears me down. Comfort comes from Lizzi’s strong love, the family, our dogs, friends; and sometimes unexpected sources like the words of the great Portugese writer and poet, Fernando Pessoa. This extract from his “The Book of Disquiet” is an example:-

“Once we believe this world to be merely an illusion and a phantasm, we are free to consider everything that happens to us as a dream, something that only pretended to exist because we were asleep. And then a subtle and profound indifference to life’s vexations and disasters is born in us. Those who died simply turned a corner and are out of sight; those who suffer pass before our eyes like a nightmare (if we feel), like an unpleasant daydream (if we think). And our own suffering will be nothing more than that nothingness.

Nothing more …. A little sun, a light breeze, a few trees framing the distance, the desire to be happy, our pain to feel the passing of the days, the knowledge that is never quite complete and the truth always just on the point of being revealed ……. Nothing more, ……………nothing more ……..No, nothing more.”