I wait
for the sun to pass behind a cloud
for the breeze to still
for the shadow to shimmer sideways
for the chance of a split second
of immeasurable beauty
gentle squeeze of the exposure button
with breath hold, unblinking
you my love
captured in time
The process of macro-photography is a low yield labour that requires inspiration, breath holding and total disregard of cramps. A bit like a budding relationship.
“I love you to the moon, and back”
said he
not realizing that such a trip was impossible
on account of the crippling hypoxia which occurs
when drifting, maskless
through the lunar firmament
“I love you, like there is no tomorrow”
said she
realizing that indeed
there would be no tomorrow
for her bag was packed beneath the bed
and she would slip away by moonlight
letting her lover dream
of solo space travel
Finding rich solace
beside the moss tinged splintered bark
of the scarred Sequoia
Sit I
Under a haphazardly sprung canopy
where shy saplings shimmer sway
to an inperceptible breeze
as finned ferns
unfurl
Web strands catch tunneled sunbeam
“see me, yet disturb me not” in stunning symmetry
And evening bird clamor couples with
muted wing percussion
in Shinrin-yoku delight
A rhapsody in green
opening night!
And so it is
that I have expunged all memory of you
the treadmarks of treachery
as molten rubber soul etchings
cleared with vigorous applications of rubbing alcohol
inhaled as ether
as I lay, lifeless limbed yet longing
But instead of prolonged numbing
instead of diminished feeling or disillusion
I emerge with understanding
for you ….
for you were the rusted signpost that a weary traveller might value
and you pointed me in the right direction
as your sun-warmed post burnt my hand
and the blisters stayed for too long
from spring, through a winter bleak
colder than your heart
I’ve decided to share Sara’s poignant piece, because in it I find hope, and the ingredients for a way forward in our troubled times. Also, I shall be able to re-read it from time to time. A recipe of hope.
If we take the time to look at the world outside of our personal bubbles, what is it that we see? What is it we feel? What is really going on out there?
We are the most advance species on the planet, yet many of us fear going anywhere in the world these days because of the chance of never seeing the light of day again.
If I am honest with myself (touching on my previous post on leaving social media), I can see why people distract themselves with puppy filters, memes and silly polls. It is either seeing those or the scary reality that is currently happening all around the world.
I recently had to do a course on how to act if I were suddenly attacked at my place of work, with a dramatised video of people being shot dead and a group of scared civilians figuring out…
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She appeared to me first on a crisp winter’s eve
black veil, lace frayed and scented of forest pine
barefoot and wild eyed
distracted by amber dusk hue we both
Yet there was mischief in her step
I did not feel her fingernails grip my arm
I did not feel myself slipping
I saw her narrowing eyes squint from where I lay
“how easily you succumbed, I only meant to play”
Smashed skull, hair matted damp
I lay alone by the frosted street lamp
Did I ever tell you that I collect gems
and once with a discerning eye
like a crow diving for gutter foil
it was fake shimmer I couldn’t pass by
I pressed my hopes on a diamond cut
deeming it worthy to treasure in hand
but watched in dismay as it crumbled
into grey lustred grains of sand
Sift carefully the gathered stones
with tarnished imperfections to feel
treasure them as old friends
for they are in truth the most real
