Danny James

Tag: ruminations

412: Patagonia part 8

Maybe we are all a series of frayed smiling faces, suspended in photographs of a time we were all together and happy, headed toward the same end of the road we could not imagine, where cannot memories pass or togetherness survive. These were golden times, before the revels dried up and the bitumen ended and we had to stop and turn around and suddenly go home our separate ways, lost and alone to spend the rest of our days trudging forward, broken and looking back for each other.

Somewhere in Patagonia 2013-2014

Somewhere in Patagonia, 2013-2014

254

What a change is wrought in 26 weeks. Days even. Why, this very morning had I broken anew and forfeited my humour in a moment drunk with ignorance, to recover again my strength before the sun had set.

Newcastle, 2014

Newcastle, 2014

243

Yet this has all before been noted, – for the mysteries that have stood us most in travail and quandary over the ages have come with man, and he still buries his spade in the Earth and routs a furrow across the globe for riddles to answers that he, himself concocts.

200

Ruminations undid you, not that upon which you ruminate.

101: The pavement

They spread themselves o’er the sun-gladdened pavement consoled for the rare effect, and how nice, I thought, to be unstifled of anything at all, and mightily wished would it last that all my souls journeys or recesses were so unshod as my weary soles presently. Perhaps, but for the binding, no soothing completes, or prevails relief. That some constraint is significant if we are to appreciate consent of our wild hearts release, and enjoy a true and profound liberty. It occurred to me then, turning my absorptions above the boulevard, to what little sky remains unobscured; past those glass peaks that cloak the day under shade and thwart nights embrace with synthetic stars: long how it has been since my toes have at all felt a gentle meadows kiss, or a cold streams truth, that being detained have I succumbed to concretes treason. Have we too hardened become, unfeeling like to the bitumen?

96

It required no less than three separate walks today to reestablish good physical vigour and a more charitable mood, than otherwise would have succeeded sedentarily. New and curious, and I dare say, nearer to ones innateness are the thoughts and resolutions that unsought, will gently approach if the avenues are unfamiliar and no station fixed to the pilgrimage. Every original detail beholds a sensory deliciousness, that one derives thus an improved line of questioning, than rather mysteries point, and though none the wiser, there is advantage.

80: Farewell the Winter

Can such things be, and apprehend like a Winter Sun?

From its highest seat entirety is touched. Woe into dew thaws, the intellect has no answer at last. An eye cannot bear to blink. No face is unfelt of its warmth, no heart left uncheered beneath, nor does any farewell quite endear, as when it still glistening recedes behind tomorrow. The coming Spring is quite forgot.

79: Wonderwall

I happened upon the corner of Earth today, and suspended there by a decimated sun, it was not grief that so utterly wrought, but a pure and heaping rejoice to the heart. I realised then that striving brought age too early, and if this was the great engulf, the end of all things, it seems I’d been saved at the last hour.

DannyJames.com.au/79:wonderwall

71: Watching Winter

This old bench has braved the changes, and, perhaps for its lonely place has long enchanted me to sit and share in its story, or receptivity learn. Under strained Apollo’s grace, reacquainting myself with a Winter scene when playful Aurae dance upon the atmosphere with jovial abandon, weaving and brushing glassy chimes whose tickled laughter is symphony of children’s revelry. The arterial bough that splits the sky has long ago cast off her lush ribbons and contented seeming with her nakedness displayed, owns a most essential refinement that nature consents yet ever struggles humanity against. We too, in due season must, without arrogance our gifts receive, and surrender them without strife.

62: Discoursing with intellectuals

Deliver us from the monotony of fools?

Perhaps sir, the intellectuals will bury themselves first.

Perhaps thy introspections, though striking may they be, are boorish and unuseful to common minds that into thy calculation saunter, and who benefit the better from deliberate action of the limbs, than rather prolonged deliberation. In truth, there are many brands of intelligence under the human scope; those whom thou wouldst consider dullards, that pay no invest to such stale and vain pontificating, might enjoy a maturating emotional intelligence beyond the reckoning of the super thinker who recites the technique of heartache that has not its awfulness stood, but sits dry in his library studying and forecasting the climate though rain still wets and suns still set, and tilts he at a draft condemning the impression for hurricane. It is not correctness nor helpful to censure anyone would not entertain thy admonishment, neither is it a defect in them if thy virtues do not their thoughts inhabit. The campaigns of fault-finders have always met with unconscious success, and closed at their own feet. Nay, deliver us indeed from the foolishness of wise men who surmise their own limit for world’s end. The many components of human aspects are, in the tiniest significance, so entire that we’ll never exhaust one of her capacities, but the ripening be assured, as all but youth well know, is ever ongoing – conceivably the perfect human monotony; for along the aeon of this human diversity, there is no tedium so diminishing and diminishment starved, save the concepts of ‘each other,’ and ‘better than.’ It does not befall a single star to illumine the midnight shade, but by every star, bright and humble are enchanting evenings made.