Has given way to middle-
Aged lethargy
Has given way to middle-
Aged lethargy
Rollercoaster life
Buckle up and enjoy the ride
From the time I awake until the night
I’m guided by an inner light
That transports me to joys so bright
Flying me on wings of dizzying height
Then dipping low and causing fright
Lurching, flying, moving, crying
My soul is on an emotional flight
To be, to have, to think, to move
All parts that work for good
But above all of these, there is but one
A higher, deeper, lower, greater
Depth to me and this would be
I feel
This is my humanity
For a year brand new?
What wishes do you wish
Would come true?
What are your hopes
What are your dreams
What are your thoughts
Secret fantasies?
I dream of love
I dream of you
I dream of life
And skies so blue
I want to live
I want to breathe
I want to be in this
World we share
So I close my eyes
I send a kiss
On butterfly wings
And a silent prayer
May we prosper
May we thrive
May we help each other
To survive
For we are life
We are not alone
We are connected
We are one
I ventured out of the scorching heat last night to take my friend’s mother and myself to see La La Land. I noticed beforehand that it was from the same director of Whiplash. (Which I watched earlier this year as it is on the list of ‘1001 movies to watch before you die’, and I am working my way down the list, currently at about number 8). So I knew not to expect the boring, cliche, Hollywood ending. Which means I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t get it. Was I disappointed? Yes! I still want and expect a boring, cliche Hollywood ending.
With that said, I loved the movie, I loved the beginning, I loved the dresses, I love Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling. It doesn’t hurt that I am tone deaf so have no idea on the quality of their singing, it all sounded just fine to me.
I loved one of the audition songs she sang:
She told me:
A bit of madness is key
to give us to color to see
Who knows where it will lead us?
And that’s why they need us,
So bring on the rebels
The ripples from pebbles
The painters, and poets, and plays
And here’s to the fools who dream
Crazy, as they may seem
Here’s to the hearts that break
Here’s to the mess we make
And I really, really love the green dress and matching pendant she wore in the cinema, breathtakingly beautiful!
I had the wonderful fortune of landing a part time job in my last year of school. I worked four hours on a Saturday morning for a local optometrist. Technically, I was not the best candidate as the receptionist position required the person to be bilingual (English and Afrikaans). In those days towards the end of apartheid South Africa, there were many people who spoke Afrikaans and Afrikaans only. Whilst I can certainly understand Afrikaans being spoken and can hold a basic conversation kindergarten level, I can hardly say I am fluent (or even sound half-normal speaking it). But good fortune prevailed and I got the job. As an aside, it was a life-saver. The four hours per week paid well, and covered all my university pocket money expenses, driving lessons, and part of my last years tuition. Without taking focus away from my studies.
The optometrist was a tall man. He also lectured at the local university. At that stage I attended a convent, had minimal male interaction (at all), and found him totally, completely intimidating. Being a man and all. And a big, tall, older one at that. And an important one. His wife ran the practice and she was the one who hired me. She was lovely. Grace personified. One of my duties was to make hot black tea, and lemon, and serve it to her husband in his office. I must have appeared as a timid little mouse. I hardly said a word to him, would deliver the tea and escape. One day I spilt the tea in the saucer. It happened just as I was about to place it down. I didn’t know what to do. I placed it down. He kindly gave it back to me and told me to bring a new one. The tea would would drip on his desk and papers and he couldn’t have that. I apologized, took the cup and saucer and returned with a new one. Unspilt. Dry saucer. Yay! (And I never made that same mistake).
I must have been working there for a good few months. One morning I took the tea into his office. He thanked me, but addressed me with the wrong name. Thank you, Michelle. Michelle was the person who worked there previously. In that moment, I managed to rise above my feelings of intimidation, and overcome my shyness. I thought to myself, just say welcome. Easy, then leave, exit the office. Instead I replied
You’re welcome.
And.
My name is Vonita.
A still dark night
Leaves me alone
To ponder thoughts,
My fears.
Consumed by anxiety
I hear the buzz of silence –
That hum when all is still
A connection, maybe
With the world that cannot be seen
The dimension that is above
The natural world
Where our loved ones wait
Patiently to welcome us
And outside a cricket
Chirps.