The Sound and the Look of Time
The Sound and the Look of Time
.original poetry
@d-pend
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photos
somadjinn
The Sound and the Look of Time
A glint in the absence of the ministry of time,
looking back at itself and seeing nothing.
Having harshness enmellowed the gold of impermanence,
constellations of smiles roll the equinox downslope.
Stones, the impression of which is snow-veins bronze
with the spent ichor of men laughing at certainties.
The slightest tremor of light builds faceless tombs
resurrecting astonishment in gestures that stay still.
Imprints lord over the flawless,
reminders of the green womb of torpor
reveling in the universe of flies.
Basket of crystal grapes,
null phrases the summer parched.
Sea's tongue, dryad flimsy with nails.
Surf timid with colors and assertions
contradicting palm vessels of words.
Sensitive passes of thorn, empathy's wildfire
and the statements crossed out
by aging backwards into a transparent dawn
that invents impossible colors and spikes.
Smoke trapped inside shimmering integers,
the mouths of galaxies that unravel.
From inoperable lips I listen to the story endlessly,
and it tells me myself.
In the language what isn't the soul, but still—
aspires to the timbre of time.
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. words .
@d-pend
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. pics .
somadjinn
."Forest Inferno Ruins"
"Rugged Sunset Rift Trail"
"Valkyrie Mountain"
Well, today is Sept 22, one of the year's equinoxes (day and night last about the same). You have beautifully eulogized one of the most curious phenomena in our earth.
The idea of time and of timelessness (a time before time or a time without it) is mindblowing. What did it look like? What did it sound like?
The rocks seem to provide some hints at the astonishing power of time.
And yet, behind their sterility there is the "green womb of torpor", the life that sleeps till further notice.
The sound of time is like the sound of leaves falling and snow after them and green shoots after the melting of the snow and the sizzling sound summer heat.
The sound of fire and its engolfing palett and the crackling of colorless remants, they all speak the language of time.
We are obssessed with time but we rarely stop to listen to what it says. It says it can't be contained or represented or measured or defeated, but we are too busy making noise trying to acomplished the impossible.
This comment opened up time into an endless dimension, crashing in on itself: kaleidoscopic, robust hologram, compressed silence of every sound canceled, formless, endlessly generative, chameleon of destiny.
Thanks, @d-pend for your trade-marked worthsmithing :)
We can be as crazy as time.
"The Sound and the Look of Time" paints in my mind a supersonic plane. Instinctively, I look for that loud sound that goes out of time with the light. Or maybe words that compare this idea and yet instinct fails, it is not enough to visualize that.
The equinox and the changes that it introduces are the needles that intertwine in the fabric of the poem.
The beginning of the autumnal season is the time of year in which the length of the hours of light is shortened more quickly and this is what this piece alludes to from the beginning.
However, despite all its symbolism: the end of the holidays, fewer hours of light, lower temperatures, the fall of leaves and the relationship with feelings of nostalgia and sadness; it also means a balance of forces between day and night, harvest time and spectacular sunsets, whose lights constitute a spectacle for those who appreciate natural beauty.
There are no words that can describe the beauty of sunset and sunrise at this time of year and the warm and strident colors generate a sense of peace, but at the same time of energy, which seems contradictory but is the magic of this time.
Heights of creativity and imagination. You compared things in such a nice way that it reminded me some poems of saint Kabir.
Thank you for the complimentary words. Believe it or not, I was unaware of Saint Kabir, so thank you for opening up that connection @akdx 🙏
You're welcome!
Thank you for being here for me, so I can be here for you.
Enjoy your day and stay creative!
Botty loves you. <3
I’ll do my best to stay creative, thanks Botty!
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Lovely Steemians,
It was all I could do to get this piece finished and posted. I must attempt to acquire sweet slumber! Please leave any comments you may have and I will respond to them when I wake up. Thank you.
Dan
@d-pend,
Of course, ol' friend ... time is meaningless. :-)
Quill
Rest, sweet dreams dear friend.
Thanks for the benediction yeninsfer:-) I slept better than usual!
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nice photo. excelente panorama 😀😀😉
Muchas gracias:-D
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Great post. 👍👌 You got an excellent story. The purpose of the narrative has a very proper and well executed meaning. You did a good job @wfuneme ✔✔✔
amazing poem and photos
I’m glad you liked it!
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Strongly spontaneously mesmerized by smile
Madly mellifluous, strung by sunlight
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