Once, not too long ago, someone demonstrated a beautiful gesture towards me- I was dumbfounded, and I doubt I'll ever forget it. That gesture has never since been mentioned, and scarcely was at the time, but it is something that I will always recall in times of self loathing or desperate sadness. I haven't ever shared this with anyone, and I don't think I ever will in person, simply because it's so soppy. hence, why I'm sharing it here.
The person in question had stumbled across a poem that they deemed appropriate to give to me; not only showing that they thought about me and considered the way I felt, but also recognised the same feelings within their own mind. They wrote it down on a piece of paper, and slipped it into the case of a CD I had loaned them. What they had written was this:
Circle Line
Seeing as I still had eight more stops
To go, and already read
The maps and advertisements from end to
End,
And studied my own double-
Eyed, four-eye-browed freak
Of a reflected face for too long; I took
To noticing another. Through a kind
Of snooker-shot of glances
Aimed against the glass, I could see her
Staring, but could not be sure
If it was at me. I smiled,
And saw her turn to speak
To someone next to her. I also turned;
And unexpectedly our eyes engaged
For just the instant that it takes for looks
To rocket through the tunnels
Of an unguarded gaze, and arrive
At the real self. Badly shaken
With embarrassment, we both looked back
At our images; safely imprisoned
In the hurtling stillness of the glass.
Robert Calvert.
I know it sounds silly, and I feel silly thinking it; but I believe that it was one of the most lovely, heart-warming things to ever have happened to me. Even if I stop caring for that one person, I will always remember that poem, and what it means.
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