A Crack in Time

A Crack in Time

One evening riding the D Train from Manhattan to Brooklyn we were crossing on the Manhattan Bridge. It was twilight. Just like in that photo. [That's the Brooklyn Bridge.] Gorgeous.

Some time well before, sitting at a local dive bar on Flatbush Avenue in Park Slope with a short glass of tap beer ... this large, imposing man sits down next to me and starts singing a classic Russian song. "Ochi chyornye" / "Dark Eyes" [A recorded version with lyrics are appended below.]

I took it he knew [how?] I was descended from people from that part of the world [Polish ancestry]. I forget what he said. I'm not much for starting conversations with strangers in bars. Anyhow, it struck me. This fellow was something extra. A time traveller from some other dimension? An Angel? Just some crazy mofo? A drunk?

Later, now here I am on the D Train, he shows up again. He sidles next to me in a way suggesting he knows me. We're looking out the window at the harbor view. It's twilight. Like the photo.

He tells me that there [at twilight] is a crack between the worlds. That's pretty much all I remember about our exchange. It stays with me. Is what he described true? On some rarified other level of perception?

Consider this ...

There’s a time at twilight when there’s a crack between the two worlds. Two worlds. Dark, and Light. Past, and Future. At that moment, there you are. Now ... where there’s nothing to hold on to. 

My takeaway: Go into that future empty handed. Without the burden of judgemental meanings you've placed on things; they persist in coloring the view ahead. This is nothing new. Ancient wisdom, really. 

Now, just to put it in practice.

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn [change] and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Dark eyes, passionate eyes.

Burning and splendid eyes.

How I love you, how I fear you.

Verily, I espied you in an ill-starred moment.

Oh, not for nothing are you darker than the deep!

I see mourning for my soul in you,

I see a triumphant flame in you.

A poor heart immolated in it.

But I am not sad, I am not sorrowful,

My fate is soothing to me.

All that is best in life, God gave us.

In sacrifice I returned to the fiery eyes!