Dearest,
Today the sun is so hot as to be almost unpleasant, and although I rose late, I have already perforce had to venture forth into it to see the local general medical practitioner. This was to inquire about some recent fainting episodes that have troubled me of late. He finds nothing wrong with my heart, blood pressure, or general condition, and agrees that this may be some stress related malady, as furthermore I also seem to exhibit the symptoms of mild depression.
I have made a further appointement to return to have tests made on my blood and so forth to ensure that there isn’t some other, deeper, ailment responsible.
Besides this I try to remain in staunch spirits.
Last night as I lay fitfully trying to find the blessed veils of morpheus – a task made all the harder by the hot humid night, and a mind that ran from hither to thither and yon like a young deer startled on the road by a fast moving carriage – I composed the following short verse which I enclose for your slight amusement.
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I squint,
looking to catch the wan dawn sun
through this —
soft gentle summer;
sweet, sweet, rain.
But, only bright bubble blurs —
rainbow angels…
I pitch forward, kneel,
on ground – strangely dry;
sheltering my face.
The rain runs down,
to bead on nose and moisten lips.
It tastes salty…
I don’t know why.
I blink —
the angels dance.
It seems to me that the affairs of people are endlessly complex and entirely confusing, and that should one choose to swim that stormy sea, then one is doomed to fight frantically without surcease to remain afloat, blinded by salt spray and choking on water. Better perhaps indeed to be an island, find calm safe haven alone beneath the sheltering trees and just watch the turbulent ocean from afar, leave swimming to those whome it more suits.
The day moves on however, and I best prepare some repast for my nourishment, for even on an island one must eat.
I remain – your ever loving,
Bartleboom, Phd