Born Before the Wind
“…Good-night, sweet prince; And flights
of angels sing thee to thy rest.”
— Horatio, Hamlet, Act V Scene II
I’ve been out of sorts all morning.
Dreams such as the one I experienced last night can have such effect, for, you see, I was visited by one departed. Though he had appeared to me many times over in the handful of days since his soul and spirit took to sail, the dream I experienced last night had an altogether different quality to it. As I am inclined to believe in the truth of such things, and believe that I have experienced things similar in the past, it should be no surprise that I give great weight to this visitation.
That I felt comfort in our conversation goes without saying, but there too is an infinite sadness married to it, an unfathomable loss that is tempered by a faith in the boundless and eternal everafter. It is a base selfishness that clings to the discorporeal, that small part of us that remains enslaved to fear and uncertainty, unwilling to find solace in our memories alone, trusting only in what can be touched as opposed to what we feel and know to be true.
“…all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.”
— Gertrude, Hamlet, Act I Scene II
Two weeks ago today, one of my best friends on earth left this rock for the stars, ascending from the finite to the infinite. As one journey ends, another begins. Sail on, my brother, into the mystic. You are missed and not forgotten. Let your soul and spirit fly…