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Location: Midwest, United States

Friday, September 26, 2008

Hints and Whispers

There’ve been many.

I’m an intuitive person by Nature (well, OK, maybe by Nurture, what the bleep do I know?). For whatever reason, I’ve relied on intuition my entire life. It’s how I process “data.” The thing is, though, it hasn’t been all that profitable an experience.

I see hints and I hear whispers. Unfortunately, the hints are indecipherable...the whispers inaudible. I can sense a change in the air; hear a subsonic rumble beneath my feet, but nothing more.

In my youth, I would lie awake at night pondering the imponderable. I would conjure a myriad of hypotheses; analyze EVERY facet as dark hours melted into dawn. Then would come the fateful day when
I finally learned the meanings of the auguries and portents, the hints and whispers that had haunted me so. I would be flummoxed, gob-smacked, laid to waste and devastated...each and every time. You see, I may be intuitive, but I am also naïve. That’s not a combination worth braggin’ on, or writing home to mom about. I mean, what’s the point of knowing that tragedy is in the air, if one can’t see the piano falling from the sky? I never possessed sufficient wisdom to know when life, as I knew it, would end. Despite the fact that I took careful measure of the angles...sifted, sorted and weighed the possibilities...
I ALWAYS overlooked the skinny chance that the faithful had lost their faith, that lovers no longer loved, or that something precious and beautiful may, someday, cease to be. I never considered
THOSE possibilities.

I said I was naïve. Believe it.

I’m different now. No, I still sense the hints and hear the whispers, but I no longer ponder the imponderable. I do not lie in bed red-eyed and frantic. No. I’ve WAY too many scars for that.

Nowadays, I merely lie storms rage and hard rain pelts my windows. I lie prostrate and listen to the wild winds shriek while coyotes yelp and howl. I lie silent, waiting, knowing only that...soon...

I will be drenched in my own blood.

* * *


Anonymous Anonymous said...

As always, your words move me like the faintest of autumn winds blowing through the blinds, when they're still gentle, yet you can feel the power just under the surface.

I'm not quite sure, Jonas, on this one if I totally know to what you speak.

Are you referring to sadness, disappointment, grief -- in love or in general?

Do you also speak of your mortality?

I don't know exactly, but as always, your words leave an imprint.

BYW, it's me. Brenda....did I tell you?

Sat Sep 27, 10:28:00 AM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Thank you for your kind words, Ms. Brenda. I say (with a bit of a wry smile):

I try to paint with words, as best I can, as the subject warrants. Isn't it true that the power of a painting resides within the contemplator? When I write of matters of the heart, I encompass a lifetime's worth of experience.

(Of course I knew, it's you! I am one of your faithful followers. I was merely respecting your privacy)

Sat Sep 27, 02:36:00 PM  
Blogger Auntie Om said...

Good "amost evening", Jonas.

Two book titles come to mind while reading this post. I feel compelled to share them and hope you have a look-see during some future book expedition:

Between Angels, poems by Stephen Dunn

Come on In!, New Poems, Charles Bukowski

I completely understand and resonate deeply. Life is.


Sat Sep 27, 04:47:00 PM  
Blogger Sunny Delight said...

No matter what I write, it will not come out right. Tears are falling, not that it matters.

Sun Sep 28, 01:26:00 PM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Hello, Auntie! I'm not familiar with Stephen Dunn (other than the examplar you posted in your blog). I have a lot of feelings about Chuck Bukowski. I think he burned hotter than most all humans.

Sun Sep 28, 05:13:00 PM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Dear Ms. Delight, it ALWAYS matters when tears fall, whether they be yours, mine, anyone's and everyone's.

Tears falling matter.

Sun Sep 28, 05:15:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, come on. Did you really know it was me?

That warms my heart...

Sun Sep 28, 11:36:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am naive as well but try to always look on the bright side, which sounds so polly annish but to dwell on the worst wore me out. I did that for years and it damn near killed me.

You don't know you will be drenched in your own blood, you fear it. Unless of course you can see the future.

I'm ranting, I know, but Jonas thinking like this kills people.

Mon Sep 29, 09:21:00 AM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Ah, Deb, I appreciate your cautionary words, future arrived last Thursday...

Mon Sep 29, 11:08:00 AM  

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