Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death.
-Macbeth
Oel Ngati Kame
Oel ngati tse'a...I see you physically. I always have. Yet now...oel ngati kame...I see into you...
I don't know what to do anymore...I feel like I am the infant, that I am the one who knows not what path to tread...even looking at you physically, as you acquire strength and marks of honour...I feel confused...
Do you see me as well? I have gathered that you appreciate the meaning of the term, even if you learned it from an external source and later applied it in our own lessons..."oel ngati kame." Did I mean it when I said it to you? Did you mean it when you said it to me? Or are we merely repeating words that mean nothing? Is this what Grace meant by "a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing?"
I watch, but for the first time in my life, I do not know if I see. I feel blind, as if cut off from the na'rìng (forest). Every night I close my eyes, I dread what the morning will bring, knowing that I will return to being blind…yet more and more, my lack of sight means little to me. I am increasingly content with seeing but one individual, one who is separate from the order of our kifkey (world), yet increasingly feels like part of it. I do not presume my…feeling(s) to be any more succinct than our Mother…a mother who stayed my hand, if not my mind…but I…feel…natural…around you. Even if sight is robbed from me.
I will not lash out…there is no-one to lash out to. No-one protests your presence anymore. If anything, you have become a symbol of hope, a bridge between our worlds. I have no right, no reason to complain. I feel lost, unable to see. And despite all this, despite the blindness, I only have one question that I truly desire to be answered…
…will you ever see me?