From a Notebook Lost: The Same and The Other 28

by mudrhetoric

Here I and you set our stone of remembrance. It will stand until the weather deems it to go away, and then you and i will return and lay yet another stone, for this must be remembered. The spot where we first met, where we bid farewell and goodbye, the spot where we will meet again. I grasp with a steady hand the rock which will sever as our remembrance. I lift and hand it to you. You lift and hand it to me. Together we place it, the stone, into the ground and smile at each other. A thought comes to me about our times past, present, and future. Of how much we understand and understand not, know and know not, see and see not, hear and hear not, speak and speak not. Our journey to all and to none has come to its midway point, I suppose. For I know that the journey not be over yet, But it could be further along than midway, I know not, or shorter, I know not. So I and you mark this upon the ground, of all and none, our stone of remembrance. Clapping my hands together, i rub them for there is a chill in the air. A fog seems to be falling, rather densely, all around us. Soon I know I will see you no longer and you will also not see me. It seems fitting for us to separate in such a way. I shout, “Farewell, till we meet again. Goodbye!” and your faint reply, for you are going away from me, “Farewell, till we meet again. Goodbye!” I see nothing anymore but the fog and even that i cannot see. I sit next to our, my, no one’s stone, and put my head into my hands and sleep, for I can no no more until I grieve and overcome my sorrow of the separation. I say to myself, “Farewell, till we meet again. Goodbye!”