This afternoon I found myself in the bliss of post-coital slumber with a lover, a working girl for whom I am a regular client. As we lay there resting I could feel my mind hovering in a delightful state, right at the boundary of wake and sleep. Then came one of those delicious moments of spontaneous meditation. I was gazing at her hair, a lock of which had draped itself over her shoulder. And amongst this lock, my eyes alighted upon a single hair.
As I drank in the sight of the strand of hair, some curious things happened in the consciousness. Firstly, the hair appeared utterly beautiful, a beauty beyond measure, and somehow larger than life. Then as I continued to gaze, with not a thought in the mind, there came the feeling, the knowing without words, that all the world was here, in this one strand of hair.
From that timeless moment came memories of a poem. With apologies to William Blake:
To see a world in a strand of hair,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
