At that time I was a real philosopher…
I was levitating in the centre of my celestial sphere and was meditating head over heels. My reflections were stitching space like golden threads and were forming subtle intricate patterns. Nothing could disturb my thinking. Only stray stars with majestic manes were drifting by my windows and were illumining walls with a multitude of bright motes…
I was happy. I was absolutely and unconditionally happy. But my happiness was brief. Time had tugged me. I had stabbed space. I was born. I was crying powerlessly. I knew that it is a deception. I knew that it will kill all my recollections about my late happiness. It will turn all my beloved recollections into ruins. I was crying…
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2014
unbolt me 
Wow. Such a powerful way to make life itself feel like a distraction, in the real course of events… Wow.
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Thanks so much for your kind words, J. 😀
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Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
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Fanks, GT!
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You are Velcome!
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This was so sad and lovely!
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And also full of an almost unfathomable kind of wisdom, don’t you think? 🙂
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Yes 🙂
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I have never thought about what it was like before I was born. I mainly worry about ceasing to be…but your poem is reassuring..and imaginative and clever..Judy https://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2015/04/12/sunday-stills-cups/
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Really like this one.Good job.
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Thanks ❤
I know, you don't approve some of my stuff.
But I really appreciate your opinion and your comments!
Happy New Year!
My warmest wishes,
Yours, Unbolt
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My not “approving” of some of your stuff has nothing to do with recognition of talent! If everyone agreed with everyone else all the time, it would be like having mashed potatoes for every meal, every day. Blah. It’s true that I dislike certain words, etc. Doesn’t mean I dislike YOU 🙂
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Thank you, Linda ❤
You're a great and wise woman!
I guess… everyone goes by own way, uses own words and makes own mistakes.
The ways are completely different… but the destination place is one. We're just trying to be happy 🙂
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Wow. This is profound. I wonder if babies cry when they’re born because they know what they’re about to lose…
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Thanks, Tony ❤
Yes… I guess that we lose our unsaid memory when we say the first word.
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