Evening @ the railway station

This last October day has been a long one. When I brought Her Tea She laughed and said: “A day without laughing, dancing and making love is a lost day” And we added both: “we have already lost too many days in a useless way. Stupidos we were. Time now is too short to add one other day to that endless list.” And I started my reading and writing before the daily morning walk. This time Dee and I, we crossed the Weser bridge to bring a visit to St.Michaels Church. As we both had no coins in our pocket for lighting a candle, we first went to the garden center. There I bought a heath plant for Willemien and got enough change to burn all candles. We both had our moments of silence and consecration in the empty church.

On our way back home we enjoyed a few minutes on a bench under high trees. There I explained to Dee why we do not have to cultivate hope in order to share what you have with others. In some way We ourselves Are Hope, as we can act to give Hope to Others. We Are Hope as Beings of Light. Dark light and bright light. Light beyond the negative relation between light and darkness. That is the lightening “character” of our spiritual heart. If we have opened up to listen to the silent rhythm of our Heart Song. The Rhythm of Systole and Diastole, Contraction and Expansion of ultimate meaning.

Perhaps this will sound strange and most abstract to you. And perhaps I should not want to explain and spin out all this further. But wait for a next opportunity to answer on questions what we can do against despair. And why we do not necessarily need to receive hopeful assurance from others in order to have the courage to Be Hope Ourselves. We only need to believe the Impossible to be become true. Therefore we light a candle and pray for spiritual strength to help others and to endure suffering.

During the rest of the day I met other neighbour friends. And I walked again down into town to make more photos. You see the last one: late in the afternoon the sky coloured red over the Western horizon. Crossing the railway bridge I saw this marvellous contrast between the sky and the orange lamp lights switched on over the railway station. As we are moving forward in time we return seemingly to one point, point of departure and point of return. A station at sunset time, looking the same but always different. Because we grow older, underway between two infinities: the pre-birth and after-death unknowable eternities. Isn’t that fascinating?