May 29, 2015

May 29, 2015

Written by Maximus Peperkamp, M.S. Verbal Engineer

Dear Reader, 

I am sitting in my garden near the fire. I am happy and quiet. I have just stopped counting my blessings. I enjoy my aloneness as my wife is visiting her mother. I am peaceful and everything seems to have been done.  

I hear a pigeon and a car while the silence is descending. Tomorrow things will be different, but I will not forget this time in which I digest who I have been and see who I am going to be, taking my instructions from the flames. 

Two birds flew after each other and animated neighbors were talking with family members. Each has their domain. I feel complete and I have nothing to wish for. The birds flew by and the neighbors went inside to watch TV. 

The air-conditioners are humming and one bird sings one last song before the darkness sets in. As the wood is being consumed by the fire, the logs rearrange themselves and the smoke goes up in the air as there is no wind.

A mosquito tried to land on my skin, but its sound near my ear gave it away and made my hand move. A dog barks at the arrival of a car and from my back yard I hear what is happening in my street, in my town, in my country. 

Oh fire, I love and admire you for being without any effort. I like to be near you and like you. Those who don’t know this cannot be here with me. It is seconds before the clock stands still and then I will pull its weights again.

The light is just right for these words to make sense. In the glow of the fire’s final stages my shadowy friends left without saying good bye. I am blessed to be outside and slowly feel absorbed by and dissolved into the night. 

Far up in the sky is an airplane with a light that flickers in the dark. The trail of its straight line was a sign that no one heard or saw.  We will not meet as our distance was too big, our speed too high and our direction different. 

Who cares about the sound of the screaming cat? Who cares about the roof which rests on our house? Who cares about the plants which grow? Who cares about the dog that barks because there was nobody home?