Wherever Mama is, ask her Urd. How did Rosetta come to this juncture,
Urd felt this calm wind blow over him. It blew as if designed to draw
his attention. It was not violent, neither was it intrusive demanding
his undivided attention. He turned to himself effortlessly.
As a second movement, he turned again to pen and pad. The flow burst as
if with a flood.
All along, it was happening higher up the mountains of his thoughts.
those heavy rains must’ve begun high in the mountains hours before those
lower down the valleys saw the brown fertile water bearing its trees,
animals, garbage and rolling stones.
‘Never mind. Never mind. This weeping is only for a while. Be still my
soul. Your life is pleasing to me.
‘Thank you. Thank you Lord. The feeling is so empty, so full of
nothingness. Hmmm. Full of nothingness.
‘Great tradition. Those who came before cut, burnt, laid waste. The land
gives life. Should be respected.
‘Close to God? God is unapproachable light. You’re on the periphery.
Well, your teachers do not teach this. They say you’re one with God in
Christ. Christ and God do not get sick.
‘Twisted, torn, broken, emptied, savaged. This nothingness is the result
of ravagings. Yes, ravaging’.
His face dropped on the pad. He was thrown out of a zone. Where was this
place? Who wanted him to write these words he did not immediately
He remembers now writing that breath is not the only life-giver in life.
There are creatures which do not live by breath. This, he could not
Wherever she may be, ask Mama, he heard his sister suggesting. His face
lifted and his fingers took the pen again.
‘There is no need. You know the answer. Mind. Mental illness is a
tragedy for humanity. An illness of the mind, an illness of the
thoughts. Hmmm. Sense of history. Need to know where you belong. Take
the stream. Runs to the sea. Knows its course. Hmmm. Sense of history.
All you are now is formed because of what you’ve been through. Your past
is healthy. It feeds your current state’.
He dropped the pen again only to fall into a deep sleep. A mere
introduction to his communication has begun.
There is much to unpack, too much to download. Thick is the flow, dense
But there was Rosetta and there was Zeen. At the very least, Zeen could
cause him to dismiss the heavy stuff, lighten up a bit. Relax.
The text would probably begin to flow lighter. Maybe the burst is
unclear, muddy, full of objects picked up along greening banks. After
the flood, the cleansed river would reveal refreshing spirit, new
creation thriving Hmmm –sh.