『A certain thing glows as it burns itself.
It is because it is leaking memories past in each moment.
It is because sorrow passes by it in each moment.
How is a person made complete.
How does time manipulate fear.
Where is the joy in singing the same song as everyone else.
No one, not a single one, tells you where you must go.
You must rediscover the voice unique to you.
You must approach the varied forms and textures of things that are.
Reconstitute in your memory, a light that diffuses and radiates.
It is okay, even if you sink into an even deeper bottom, in an even deeper darkness.
In the way of dying, hand over a flower that blooms.』
We choose to bless all things that disappear.
For time is not something that disappears, but something that accumulates.
This is an excerpt from “When We Walked Through the Mist, the Night Guided Us”, part of the poet Lee Jenny’s 『Things Flowingly Written As Such』.
I debated for a long time how to begin this post..
Then I lightly picked up a book, and I felt a sensation of being absorbed before I knew it, and so this is how I begin. For some reason, when I read those passages,
I was so comforted that I made the ridiculous mistake of thinking, “What if all of the time I’ve passed by and experienced was just so that I could read this poem?”
Well, I am not yet sure what words the poet is delivering to me, with what intent and emotion. Nor am I yet sure what in the world I am trying to tell all of you, going ahead and writing down this poem of the poet.
But one thing I can tell you for sure is, those passages gave me a great deal of consolation
And rather than the obvious and common flashy greetings, what I wanted was to return consolation to all of you, writing down my truthful feelings word by word.
The consolation I give you on my 5th anniversary may sound a little funny.
Even so, I sincerely congratulate us on our 5th anniversary of being together.
When I put a dot on the word ‘congratulation’ and look closely
What I see is not a brief serenade for a happy ending, for just that one moment; but rather I see a heart that comforts you, in all of those times when you were working so hard to reach something. I have become able to see through the essence of a word in this way, despite my bad eyesight, because I have learned how to see with my heart.
A heart with fine and well-polished texture has a polarity that is opposite of my own coarse heart; and so when it faces me, like magnets we embrace each other and offer up the warmth of our sides. But an edged heart that is rough and sharp succeeds in scratching my own heart and pushes me away.
In this way, some hearts and other hearts, with the same pronunciation
Create such different sounds.
The hearts that wanted to comfort me, and conversely the clumsy hearts that never were comforted and grew crooked.
All the moments I have passed by, ones that have made me laugh and made me cry in silence, reach their long arms out to me and offer me consolation at the tip of their tenuous fingers. And when they do, I want to yell and hand over a flower, so that when I am in the darkness someday, I may be able to hear. That everything is okay.
Some people might say it has ‘only’ been five years. But the five whole years I have been through somehow feel like a dizzyingly long time.
And of course, in those times I was never alone. Despite that, why do I only understand after five ‘whole’ years have passed.
When I had to walk the abject darkness, when I could not see an inch in front of me, I had nothing, and so I had to burn myself to make light. For that was the only way my cowardly self could walk forward.
That light made me move forward, but also step back at the same time. As the light grew dimmer and dimmer the more I walked, I blamed myself, but by then I was all burnt up and nothing was left. If only I had not looked ahead, but looked to my side, looked behind me… Then I could have faced my Orbits in truth a little earlier. Even when I did not notice you and walked past you, Orbits must have protected me for a long time from behind me, from my side, yes?
Now I too want to tell you. That I will always be here, so you should not worry. That when Orbits sometimes look back, and look to your side, I will be standing there so you can see me easily, always.
I think once again. It has already been 5 years of us being together.
As the years go by, it seems that my affection, the words I want to say, and the words I still cannot bring up, all grow in proportion.
Needless to say, light exists because darkness does
And darkness only feels dark because there is light.
I could not feel darkness before I met Orbit, and then I met Orbit; now, even if I close my eyes at your dazzling bright light, I clearly see your afterimage. Even when I sometimes fall into a deep, dark dream again, I am not afraid. No, you set me at ease, telling me I do not have to be afraid. Even when I cannot see an inch ahead, following the light that I sense with my heart, I close my eyes and take a step towards the dawn.
Before I know it, the wind that comes through the window in my room has become cold. Today, I opened up the snowy white heart that was piled up in a heap, and it was the memory we had sent to us from last year.
I took a deep breath to read it, tightly packed into a breath my wishes that we should open it together again next year, and then folded and sent it out of the window.
As we wait for the coming spring, summer, fall, and this time of year around winter, I hope we’ll open up today, together, once again.
Picking back up the words that still try to force their way out, I would like to substitute the passages that conclude the poem I wrote for you before, in place of my feelings. Again in this coming winter, trust me, let us trust each other, and let us move forward. No matter what.
『There is a memory that seeps beyond the boundary of darkness.
It is light, but it does not tear easily, and it recovers robustly.
In a borderless voice, it asks a clear question.
Where are you.
Are you here now.
As we walk through the mist, we arrive at the center of the night.
Referring to the unknown as the darkness, we proceed dimly.
You must know that even when you walk in place, you are moving forward.
The first sentence has fallen to the ground, and the final sentence opens up into wings.
Knocking on the future, we create the past.
The entrance of the world is opening.
There is a beauty that you hear behind the breathing.』