I wish I could say why. I have my suspicions, of course, yet prefer not to face them. Yet somehow this piece evokes in me a sense of loss. Of time that has gone, never to return. Of opportunities that shall not come again. I listened to it one day, and felt tears welling in my eyes, despite the fact that I cannot understand the Breton language.
Perhaps one day someone shall come and translate this for me, and I will learn that it has nothing to do with time at all. Or loss. Perhaps one day someone will come and set my mind at ease. Confirming that time is far from past. And that this life–a convergence of lines and voices and hearts–has as much relevance now as before. As much potential as ever. As much hope as man may know.
Infinite hope. I know I have used these words recently. And I believe them to be true. I have greater conviction now than at any point in my life that love can be true and enduring and yes–even pure. Yet these words, this voice of infinite hope cringes at this pervasive sense of loss.
For all of our efforts to “live in the moment,” we are creatures of time, and we exist in the past, present, and future. All of us. Yet my greatest weakness is perhaps that my spirit dwells far too much in times gone by.
[I see YouTube has managed to block viewing here on WordPress, but at least the link is still active to take you to this piece at YouTube.]