They've come to take me home
He climbs up on a small flat-topped rise above the village of Batheaston in Somerset, England. From there, he sees the glittering lights of the city. He feels the gusts of wind and time seems to stop.
Strangely, despite the late hour, he sees an eagle flying. The eagle is an amazing sight, as it flies toward the man atop the hill. The eagle approaches, and the man hears a voice. He strains to understand what is being said to him, and is compelled to listen all the more intently. It seems unbelievable to him, and he wonders if he is merely imagining this voice. But he decides he must trust his imagination. He feels his heart beating as the words become clear: "Son, grab your things I've come to take you home."
Upon reflection, he decides that he cannot go about speaking of this experience. His friends would surely conclude that he was out of his mind. To dare to speak of such an event, like witnessing the miracle at Cana, would cause others to reject him, to slam doors in his face.
But he endures this from day to day, despite his life foundering, until it occurs to him what he must say and do and the conduit he should sever. He realizes that he had blended into his surroundings. He decides to distance himself from the gears and cogs of his existence. These thoughts cause his heart to pound, as once again, the eagle's voice comes to him and says: "Hey, grab your things; I've come to take you home."
He had been bewitched by an illusion spun about him, never exactly where he wanted to be. Freedom seemed to do an elusive dance, and when he now thinks that he is free, he senses the scrutiny of others; blank backlit outlines of people, who watch him although their eyes are not open.
But these shadowy outline people were not taught how to behave. The man decides that he will show another self; that he needs no one to take his place. When he attempts to explain the reason for his smile, his heart again starts to race. This time, he doesn't wait for the eagle to speak. Instead, he says to the outline people: "Hey, you can keep my things, they've come to take me home."
~ James Hilston, July 15, 2007, with apologies to Peter Gabriel.
He climbs up on a small flat-topped rise above the village of Batheaston in Somerset, England. From there, he sees the glittering lights of the city. He feels the gusts of wind and time seems to stop.
Strangely, despite the late hour, he sees an eagle flying. The eagle is an amazing sight, as it flies toward the man atop the hill. The eagle approaches, and the man hears a voice. He strains to understand what is being said to him, and is compelled to listen all the more intently. It seems unbelievable to him, and he wonders if he is merely imagining this voice. But he decides he must trust his imagination. He feels his heart beating as the words become clear: "Son, grab your things I've come to take you home."
Upon reflection, he decides that he cannot go about speaking of this experience. His friends would surely conclude that he was out of his mind. To dare to speak of such an event, like witnessing the miracle at Cana, would cause others to reject him, to slam doors in his face.
But he endures this from day to day, despite his life foundering, until it occurs to him what he must say and do and the conduit he should sever. He realizes that he had blended into his surroundings. He decides to distance himself from the gears and cogs of his existence. These thoughts cause his heart to pound, as once again, the eagle's voice comes to him and says: "Hey, grab your things; I've come to take you home."
He had been bewitched by an illusion spun about him, never exactly where he wanted to be. Freedom seemed to do an elusive dance, and when he now thinks that he is free, he senses the scrutiny of others; blank backlit outlines of people, who watch him although their eyes are not open.
But these shadowy outline people were not taught how to behave. The man decides that he will show another self; that he needs no one to take his place. When he attempts to explain the reason for his smile, his heart again starts to race. This time, he doesn't wait for the eagle to speak. Instead, he says to the outline people: "Hey, you can keep my things, they've come to take me home."
~ James Hilston, July 15, 2007, with apologies to Peter Gabriel.
Labels: gears and cogs of existence, going home, imagination, Peter Gabriel, Solisbury Hill
posted by Surviving Twin at 12:52 AM
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