It was a cold autumn day when I picked up the latest volume of one of the literary magazines on the coach and tried to pretend that I understand the article. I wasn’t sure that my feet were cold or it was an impulse of what I was feeling. My dad used to say that read it even if you don’t understand it. One day you pick up a poem or a prose and without knowing you will understand. Don’t let it scare you.
It was about love and power of art. Here is what I remembered: “… Time is no limitation to love, since love creates time …” *
I’ve been captivated by the concept of time and its power, how it swallows us into its closed circled line where we experience the idea of loop. How is it love can create time?! I’m still not sure. Being surrounded by new mothers and pregnant women and of course instincts made me think of motherhood. What makes people to create another being despite all these difficulties?
I came across few lines in my head and I wrote few words to my child.
I bought the future
For the price of pain
For the price of years, fulfilled with love, without me
When you were invited to my body’s locked circle
When me became us
And you became hope to see the future I don’t see
After all those years, my toes felt the same autumn like chill. Feeling love towards my child I don’t have gave reality to how love can make time.
I know the author, Rastgoo*, probably meant something else but for the first time I grasped as big of a monster time is we’ve been fighting against it … somehow …