Rachel Ward

Follies Fixture

I had been torn between two worlds. The one I had built for myself, and the one I could feel lingering at my periphery. Unable to be named but realer somehow, realer than this one. I rolled over in my bed in the morning to find this sight waiting for me, a place I had never been and never would, a kind of sweet land waiting for me at the outskirts of my waking. My soul still staying in heaven unable to be brought down in those early hours, I waited. No body taught me how to do this, how to be patient. I had to learn it myself. No body taught me what this was, I had to learn it myself. A kind of calling to a life that was mine, crafted around my thought and word, my call. I saw it in the colours at the outside of my thoughts. I felt what that life must have felt like, real. Like wearing a nice dress that fit your body well. I could not reach it in my waking hours, but in the quieter moments, just before dawn when my body is waking, I can catch a glimpse of it.