A Moment in the Park

By Elizavetta Schrijver

10.2.2003

The two of them, who were alone, went to the park and walked the cement path till they found a bench to sit on. Though the bench was of average length, a mile lay between them. The leaves on the branches of the oak trees filtered the sunlight from behind. In the bay to the right, boats asleep as tethered horses waited alone for the return of those who care for them. An empty road stretched to the left and cried out for the cars, which once gave it purpose. A quiet gentle breeze moved in between them, separating them. They sat there and closed their eyes, not wanting to see the flower gardens yonder, or the beauty of the vista, or each other. By chance, (or was it predestined?) one produced a piece of paper with a poem by the Russian poet Alexander Pushkin.

“What is this?” asked the other who took it.

“Please read it out loud.” The first asked.

“Ok.“ and began to read the poem:

1821
I have outlasted all desire,
My dreams and I have grown apart;
My grief alone is left entire,
The gleanings of an empty heart.
The storms of ruthless dispensation
Have struck my flowery garland numb-
I live in lonely desolation
And wonder when my end will come.
Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted
By tardy winter's whistling chill,
A single leaf which has outlasted
Its season will be trembling still.

The soul’s loneliness is described as a leaf left alone on a tree in the winter. The cold winter winds have no mercy on it. The soul with no hope counts down the hours till its death. What has happened to the soul? It no longer identifies with the past. It is separated not only from everyone else, but also from itself. It was once a whole soul, but it has become a bicameral soul split a sunder.

Why was one allowed to split and estrange itself from its self? How do two halves forget the union they once shared?

Eyes searched eyes for the filament of hope. They found it. They used it to sew the single soul they once shared back as one.

In the park the two of them, who were not alone, felt the ocean breeze on their skin, the warmth of sun on their backs, the words from the poems, and wondering how they could have let their soul split leaving them alone they promised not to let the dichotomy repeat.