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Laura

April 5th, 2012 No comments

I remember you Laura.

The sparkle of analysis in your eyes. A lover of Freud. Your preferred to wear black and liked to dangle and superimpose those golden necklaces.

It made me wonder if your logic was often clouded by desire.

“Oh…the luxury, IBM, 2 weeks in New York” – why do you give yourself away in such obvious ways?

As we spoke in a group and talked about childrearing you once said “Matthew, know when to let go”. Or, know when a human being has the ability to venture out on their own in the real world without the support of another human being. Your sharp insights intrigued me and captured my attention.

Yet I would counter “Laura, know when to open your arms and welcome back in”.

The way you pressed your index finger on top of your middle finger and rubbed it into a crack in the table. Hmmm…your eyes alive with rapture.

Don’t be too cruel now…his father or his father’s father had a difficult time with his feelings (or was it one of their wives that had a difficult time with her feelings and did not know how to express them)?

The circumference of the fantasy is bulging.

Now where’s that needle to pop the balloon?

You know we’ll breathe this fire a mile high into that night sky,

Matthew Polkinghorne

 

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