Paul stared at the screen in disbelief. Explain in a few brief words where you come from. A few brief words to sum up a life and its origin. How could anyone do justice to such a question. Of course, he could find those few words. Italian; Wales, the land of his birth; rugby his passion; music, writing, books, books and even more books - but he would only write it once. People, he loved them; they were the driving force behind his teaching - permitting others to reach their full potential. The names of all those places he'd lived in, each one leaving an indelible impression upon him. The romances that had touch his life, even those that had never worked out. God, the creator of all things, even of his life.

Slowly, he started typing. Just one word per line. Each of these things that impressed themselves upon his mind. It took him just ten minutes. There they were, all of them. None forgotten. But... and as he put those words down on the scales, this 'but', this one little word outweighed them all. Each square word could be multiplied by itself over and over again, it would never be enough.


That is the big picture...well expressed.
I took the short passage...TJ

21 March 2009 at 01:32  

True - impossible to say it all. And then you manage it. Great post!

21 March 2009 at 10:45  

"Each square word could be multiplied by itself over and over again"

I really like that. its like each word defining our life is in fact a fractal...

21 March 2009 at 11:19  

a beautiful prose poem!

21 March 2009 at 18:03  

Deep thinking indeed!

22 March 2009 at 21:44  

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