Authors: Elen Sentier
He had come here every full moon. He had to guard the path, watch the weather, look out for storms which would tear the cloud land apart. So, every full moon, he came to the Lady’s Window to sit looking out across the sea with the moon path at his feet. If he did not then Isoldé would never come home.
Dawn was coming up, he could tell by the change in the light. The moon was sinking into the sea at the end of the path, the path itself was fading. It would be another month before it came again. Mark stood up, looked along the path one last time.
There, above the stone steps that were the physical end of the moonpath, hung a figure, it seemed to be suspended there, unable to move. The soft, golden hair flew out behind the beautiful face as though the figure was running at great speed, the arms were outstretched, the long legs stilled in a fantastic leap. There was fear and hope in the blue eyes.
‘Isoldé!’ Mark stood transfixed.
Next thing he knew was a black fur-ball crashing into him,
knocking both the wind and the paralysis out of him. ‘Catch her!’ the words shouted across his mind.
He reached up and found Isoldé’s hands, pulled, caught her body in his arms. They fell together into the wet dew of morning.
The dancers are all gone under the hill
TS Eliot: East Coker
The vision shuddered into monochrome. Isoldé felt herself shooting across the sea. Everything broke into shards of light, she leapt, then found herself hovering above the cliff edge, her feet not able to touch down on the stone steps.
Mark was there. He stood staring at her as if she were a ghost. She cried out his name but no sound came.
Then she felt his hands pulling her, his arms came around her and they fell together into the grass. Looking up and back she saw the moon set, slipping away below the curve of the Earth. The pathway across the sea was gone.
Much later, in the kieve, their ears battered by the incredible roar of the waters, Isoldé stood with Mark. He had his arm about her waist. ‘Done and dusted,’ she said.
‘Yes.’
‘And I made it home.’
‘More by luck than judgement, and only by the skin of your teeth.’
She chuckled. ‘True enough! But I did so …’
‘Aye, you did so …’
In order to arrive there
,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not
,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy
.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance
.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by a way of dispossession
.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not
.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know And what you do not own is the only thing you own And where you are is where you are not
.
TS Eliot: East Coker
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