I've finally come up with a structure to Reflections, this will be the start of the 2nd part of what will be 6 sections. Basically, there will be an experimental introduction to each section and then about two story halves-'Stand' and then both parts of 'To Move On' have both made up the first section. Eventually, I will relate the standard behind the structure, but right now here is Creation-slightly experimental with apologies to the artists whose lyrics I used, and open to comments about what probably should have been included.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or the songs represented here. (The 'Kookaburra' song actually does belong to someone else, the rights have not expired for the original 'purchase').

Creation

Kookaburra sits on a rusty nail
Gets a boo-boo in his tail
Cry, Kookaburra! Cry, kookaburra!
Oh how life can be!

The last stanza…the Doctor knew that, sometimes, humans just found it hard to remember all of the words in a song, that they would sing a chorus over and over again, "Bye, bye, Miss American Pie, drove my chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry", never really going to the trouble to memorize the rest of the song. Personally, he always found himself able to remember everything if he put his mind to it, though he hardly ever did try intentionally, sometimes things just slipped out when necessary…at least The Lion King helped to make his point, just a bit.

'Hello darkness, my old friend,/Ive come to talk with you again,' To The Sounds of Silence, of course…the TARDIS had enough of that these days.

Dream, when youre feeling blue/Dream, thats the thing to do/Just watch the smoke rings rise in the air/Youll find your share of memories there' Perhaps you can say that, 'Old Blue Eyes', but stars and planets fade in those smoke rings of the universe.

'I can't believe it's happened to me./I can't conceive of any more misery./ Ask me why, i'll say i love you,/And i'm always thinking of you.' Perhaps there was nothing else to say, O Muse, O Beatles, nothing else to say at all.

The Doctor heard enough music and saw enough artwork and read enough literature wherever he went across the universe, those on Landooma had made a statement by rerouting their beds of lava into intricate patterns, Palaporortians used spare tentacles as flutes, even Gallifrey once had its share of writers…a bit technical, a bit overwhelming, but it was an art-form. Nearly every planet had one art-form or another, but for some reason, he found himself attracted to the masterpieces, and even to the amateurish art, of the Earth…maybe because most of it seemed pretty straightforward, yet still so meaningful to him. Of course, since he liked to experience the self-expression of those apes, then the cosmos thus deemed that he was usually too busy dealing with their messes so that he sometimes never could take the time to sit down and listen to an opera in 1890, or meet with Dante Aligeheri on some roadside in the Italian wilderness of his wanderings. Oh, time…to stretch out the days, would he then be able to take more pleasure out of what few pastimes he could encounter?

Would he have been able to have more chances with Rose? No, the Doctor knew that such wishful thinking would do him no good, he could not dwell in the past when he could not meddle with it…damn Reapers. Well, whatever else, he had always heard that humans sometimes used their artistic abilities to convey their pain or joy, or whatever else was going on inside their heads…a bit brilliant, really, that was what made them different from other animals, the ability to project their thoughts toward the future…and toward the past as well. Never mind, it wasn't as if he was a painter or a musician…he was talented with Gallifreyan writing, of course, but that wouldn't suit anything that he could imagine creating to…memorialize Rose. The Doctor knew that he could sing and dance, though Rose had once said that the former would have made Daleks howl, but both seemed too sporadic and didn't have the same impact as creating something himself. He might as well forget about such scheme…try to go on as if nothing had happened.

'Smiling faces I can see/But not for me/I sit and watch/As tears go by' So does time, thought the Doctor, Rolling Stones and time.

'I try and mend the broken pieces/I try to fight back the tears' as The Doctor worked on the TARDIS, he kept repeating those Queen lyrics, turning a knob and cranking back a lever.

'Try to kill it all away /But I remember everything' The Doctor slammed his mallet against the console of the TARDIS, telling himself that nothing was wrong, as Johnny Cash kept singing in his mind.

The Doctor shook his head, Rose was still alive, still out there somewhere, maybe he could find another supernova, another fading star, and use whatever power was left to contact her…but there was no use, trying to deny and trying to think up reasons for doing what should not be done. He was just getting himself stuck in some unreality, spiraling through space in a dark maze, if he denied what he was going through, the TARDIS might as well just split apart right now…not the first time that had happened. Embarrassing, Jamie had turned into a cardboard cutout, but at least the Doctor had realized that to rearrange a sword makes words.

The Doctor thought for a moment and decided to really play some music, a concert piece, to sit and listen and think about what he should do next…he should not wander so willy-nilly, he might as well settle on a specific date and a specific location and see what would happen there. With that, the Doctor snapped his fingers and Mozart's Flute Concerto No. 1 in G major, K 313 began to play as he walked over to the cushioned seat and sat down, listening to the orchestral strings and, most importantly, the flute, whose solos trilled and yet lingered, sharp and sweet notes echoing through the TARDIS. After another few moments, the Doctor suddenly stood up and began working with the controls of the console, the time rotor now vibrating as the music continued to play and he started to wave his fingers, humming softly to himself.

'twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood/When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud/I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form./Come in, she said,/Ill give you shelter from the storm.' The Doctor knew that he would never forget Rose, Dylan was wiser than he seemed.

'I hear the sound of the ticking of clocks/Come back and look for me/Look for me when I am lost/And just a whisper, whisper, whisper, whisper' He wished that he could go find her, that she would find him, that he could get Coldplay out of his mind.

'There he goes, there he goes/Where he stops, no one knows'…The Doctor stared up at the time rotor of the TARDIS, wondering what Jimi Hendrix would have thought about all of this, as he went on…though the Doctor could not create, he could dream and build upon that and help others see their dream as well.

To be continued. Please read and review, the next part will probably be called Heart Music: Wolfie