I Will Return.
"You are my children all but I would sooner shatter you like flawed pottery than have your weakness be that you are but a flawed copy out of my mold."
*****
“What if the world were cracked clay pots, fossilised bones, broken tools and you were like an archeologist, digging in the dust to find out what had happened to the men before you? What if you knew the world before the world and it was only you who did?” Here she interjected on herself. “Burden. Do you think?”
“Somewhat. What is memory if you have none to share them with?” he rested against the counter now, arms crossed once again.
“Odd question, that.” She reflected.
“While I find it good to remember, when there is nothing but loss it is somewhat saddening; but also valuable to do so to remember the happy with the sad.”
“What is a memory, without someone to share it with?" Again she repeated his question now, over-fluffing the cushion absent-mindedly. What is all the knowledge in the world if it cannot be perceived?” She paused, then asked heavily, “What happens to god, when no one knows about him anymore?”
A bemused expression crossed his features and he stood up straight running a hand over his short-cut hair. “Ah. Back to that damn cat in a box.”
She replaced the pillow and twisted around to meet his eyes once again. He continued on and she listened. “Does it exist or doesn't it? Was it real or a dream?”
“Perhaps both.” She offered and moved toward a small picture hung on the wood-paneled walls. “What kind of man were you in the last world, Toff?”
He cocked his head, “Last world? Before I died?”
The Matriarch before him shrugged her shoulders a bit, lifting the picture off its hook on the wall and dusted at the top of it with careful attention. “Before the world began to move on. Myself, I was Bran Drui. Before that, I was a wife. After that, I was many things.”
*****
Some are born through sorrow
Some are born through pain
Some are born through laughter and joy
We were born to live again, and we will live again.
*****
“What if the world were cracked clay pots, fossilised bones, broken tools and you were like an archeologist, digging in the dust to find out what had happened to the men before you? What if you knew the world before the world and it was only you who did?” Here she interjected on herself. “Burden. Do you think?”
“Somewhat. What is memory if you have none to share them with?” he rested against the counter now, arms crossed once again.
“Odd question, that.” She reflected.
“While I find it good to remember, when there is nothing but loss it is somewhat saddening; but also valuable to do so to remember the happy with the sad.”
“What is a memory, without someone to share it with?" Again she repeated his question now, over-fluffing the cushion absent-mindedly. What is all the knowledge in the world if it cannot be perceived?” She paused, then asked heavily, “What happens to god, when no one knows about him anymore?”
A bemused expression crossed his features and he stood up straight running a hand over his short-cut hair. “Ah. Back to that damn cat in a box.”
She replaced the pillow and twisted around to meet his eyes once again. He continued on and she listened. “Does it exist or doesn't it? Was it real or a dream?”
“Perhaps both.” She offered and moved toward a small picture hung on the wood-paneled walls. “What kind of man were you in the last world, Toff?”
He cocked his head, “Last world? Before I died?”
The Matriarch before him shrugged her shoulders a bit, lifting the picture off its hook on the wall and dusted at the top of it with careful attention. “Before the world began to move on. Myself, I was Bran Drui. Before that, I was a wife. After that, I was many things.”
*****
Some are born through sorrow
Some are born through pain
Some are born through laughter and joy
We were born to live again, and we will live again.