Friday, July 23, 2004

Losing the scent 

(subtitle: metaphor soup - in which we explore how to cram the most metaphors into the smallest space)

The trail’s gone cold.  Parts 4 and 5 were planned, but the experience faded before the words could catch up.  Even part 3 feels distant now; an experience belonging to someone else. 

So busy was I painting the golden rays of the sun, so intent on freezing them on the canvass, that when I turned back to look, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, it’s golden brightness a distant fading glow.

That’s the way of things – the ocean swell drives the wave in, it breaks on the shore, reaches up the beach… and then recedes, its energy spent.  But the tide has risen a little higher, and another wave will follow.  Unless of course the tide is on its way out.  Dangerous things, metaphors.  Especially when they’re as mixed as these ;-)

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