On the title: "Harbour Lights" is a name I chose for how it resonates--with my heart, on my tongue, in text. I like seaside settlements; I love the concepts of journeys, navigation, departure and homecoming. With harbours come the images of ships, bells, lighthouses--ships that were made to voyage, bells that call in the day's catch, lighthouses that guide the wayward vessel past the rocks.
There is this mental image I sometimes have: I am at the deck of a ship in the middle of the ocean; it is night time, and the sea is black. Except for a few points of light, marking the far horizon: like a string of fairy lights, or fireflies--a foreign harbour. It's not my home, but seeing it is a comfort all the same.
"waiting in dusty pages, the cosmogony of a dreamt universe"--it is a wonder, how a world can begin in the human mind--and grow, and flourish, its every detail drawing itself, as if existent all along. The question of where these worlds originated remains to be answered--but to the dreamer there is no need to know, because that mystery itself is what engenders the love for creation.
