Loud stars, loud light
Hothouse bright
Shines vines and furrows
Pens' marrow
I once thought walking in the street was a thing to do
Like reading the paper or calling to your neighbor over the fence
But it's not, it's a calling, an attraction to the light that's unavoidable
A coming home to the center of ourselves
To a center that surrounds us, a center we can't even recognize as us
And somehow in the midst of that unrecognized heart we light up
Flashing in the night like a great multicolored quasar
And then we take a deep breath and remember before going home
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Comments: 27
Z'
Stirling - thanks. I would recommend folks to come to your page and read your take on another of Kathryn's picture prompts - it's awesome.
Liz - that may be the best compliment I've ever received...I'm rarely speechless...ask my friends - but you've done it. I can only smile and say thank you.
I see how all is one spark
Burning in concert
Mutual desire
Defying the dark
Tom, this one enthralls me. The deep simplicity of your poetic art reveals the grandeur of our existence and primal memory of our essence.
The colors in the painting by Van Gogh are so glorious that I wonder why I'd not seen it before.
Tom. Absolutely fantastic photo and poem to boot.
Your poem spoke to me and made me remember those very instances of which you wrote. Thank you so much, Tom.
I´m so impressed with the way you start out with stark, elemental imagery, and then build in a gradual disquisition to a pre Sim sense of full subjectivity, all lights on in the brain or that is to say the illuminated individual following ¨the calling¨of ¨walking in the street¨coming into the sense of all his or her available resources in an extended consciousness that is perception, awareness, anamnesis, and a theophanic breath, all at once, infused with light.
You should have no problem publishing this one, good buddy!
reflective ponderings lit by a walk's calling to
express and resonate with expanded voice in street-staged
textural arrays just has me sighing.....what a fine, fine poem!
The inhalation of "remembrance" at the closing was
gorgeous!
There are lots of metaphoric possibilities in the last two lines.
I love it
thank you
The Cafe at Night stares back at me from the Wall as I write this comment.
Your piece is brilliant.