June 23, 2013 by allsho
I don’t know if this is a common experience, but I sometimes remember the first time I meet a word, generally one in a foreign language.
So “ripple” is one of those. I stumbled in it while listening, ages ago (as you can see from the singer’s look in this video), at a song, one of the very first of Sting’s solo career.
Every ripple on the ocean
every leaf on every tree
every sand dune in the desert
every power we never see
There is a deeper wave than this
swelling in the world
there is a deeper wave than this
listen to me girl.
You’ll understand (and if you don’t, follow the link above and you shall) that my children, even if they never heard it before today, immediately recognised Sting’s voice (not infrequently heard at home or in my car) and loved the video.
Now the song speaks about ripples on the ocean. In the picture below, the ripples were stirred by my elder son with a stick in a small mountain lake. They are circles, centred around what was his position when he was beating the water. And as the ripples move in larger and larger circles on the smooth surface, even if the boy moved and is no longer there to cause them, they keep memory of him in that place, and carry that memory further and further.
Well, I don’t know if it’s the seventh or the eight wave. But love, I agree, sometimes behaves as the ripples on a small mountain lake.