05 June, 2008
Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides. I am here
Or there, or elsewhere. In my beginning.
East Coker, by T.S. Elliot
Many years ago, as a young adult, I became enamoured by T.S. Elliot’s reading of his work, Four Quartets. I would listen to his reading of East Coker especially often: all the while following the ebb and flow of his voice with the written words.
My uncle, Peter, who stayed with me for a weekend at that time, wondered what drew me to these poems. We went out to dinner one night and talked about the meaning of words, their power, and how Mr. Elliot’s voice haunted my days.
I’ve just heard from my sister how my uncle-dear is struggling in this life, and I wish him a dawn wind out at sea. This is what he wishes. He has shown me, how we are all beginners when it comes to dying and that this is good so, since death truly is a beginning.