It may come in, like my previous small essays in some of my books……
But today I just share my soul with you.
We say writers have special souls, sensitive and insightful
We say that writers, like artists, are weird, flaky and odd…..
Today, I do not argue
But today I just share my soul with you.
We say writers have special souls, sensitive and insightful
We say that writers, like artists, are weird, flaky and odd…..
Today, I do not argue
I’m talking about clouds today…..
……when I was small, I believed in fairy tales.
And I loved that my grandmother to tell them to me.
From fairy tales, I learned three things:
And I loved that my grandmother to tell them to me.
From fairy tales, I learned three things:
-first: that could be a happy ending………..
-the second: that there may not be a happy ending………
-the third: that when someone die, their souls leave the body.…….
Just go out the body and all.
And the body is buried or burned.
Now I’m not a little girl anymore.
But it remains in me.
…….when I lived as an adult woman in the Middle East, in Jordan, the terrain there is mountainous….
……In seasons….in rainy storms, my husband( a doctor) returning after a night duty,often said that they could not save a serious sick patient.The patient was died.
And I looked at the window, saw how heavy, spherical gray, dark clouds lay over the city.
These big watery clouds seemed to collect the souls of dead people.
They collected and slowly crawled into the mountains.
And so it was in the days of changing seasons, in early spring and late autumn.
And I looked at the window, saw how heavy, spherical gray, dark clouds lay over the city.
These big watery clouds seemed to collect the souls of dead people.
They collected and slowly crawled into the mountains.
And so it was in the days of changing seasons, in early spring and late autumn.
It repeated every season
……Clouds floated low over the city and collected the souls of the dead seriously ill……
……Clouds floated low over the city and collected the souls of the dead seriously ill……
I live in Toronto now.
There are no such clouds.
There are no such clouds.
The clouds here are far from the earth
Very far from us…..very very far…….
I continue to believe that the souls of the dead come out of their bodies before death.
But in Toronto I am afraid the night, which takes souls.
Nights here are evil, dark, scary and merciless
Nights here are evil, dark, scary and merciless
The night that takes the souls of seriously ill patients
I’m sorry I’m in that mood today
I told you that we, writers + artist, are weird.
Today, one sweet, bright, kind soul went into the night……..
26 February 2019 7 a.m