Life in Stills and Words
“.. every creature held its breath and the fireflies glowed brighter than they had ever glowed in their lives, each one convinced that this at last was love..” ~ Neil Gaiman, Stardust
Summer moves further away with each flicker; melts with the fading wax light. Weather, damp. Sentiment, dewy. Recalling a dubious desire with an ambiguous call to wait, the silent darkness nods.
I read somewhere that the camera is the eye of truth and lies. To a certain degree, I somehow comprehend the candor. Significantly, it is what is not captured that matters in some ways.
Senses. An image fail to convey the sound or the feel of the subject. Nor can one taste it’s physical existence, only see and allow logical thought to explicate.
Interpretation. What was construed to be true can be false; flawed to be whole.
Memories seemingly borrowed but resoundingly etched. Rummaging through a past; unearthing a lightness out of romance.
There was a time when you walked this earth. The sands and sun witnessed our paths crossing as eyes sparkle with recognition and lips touched by a glimmer of open smiles. Words whispered at night; sense sent to space and back, your voice traveled through wires. Souls metaphysically merge at a passing, tragic juncture.
“Someday when you look back to our conversation tonight, you’ll understand.” Peter had told her quietly. “I was just given the opportunity to tell you this..”
{excerpt from Summer’s Tears, written circa 2000′s}
Three years and a decade ago in April, I knew you. In the final hours of your time, I was gifted with a glimpse of what could be — how it should be written.
Light sneaks through branches and sound carried by the wind. It’s a concoction of endless rustle of leaves and wood, and busy bustle of unseen creatures — feral and foreign.
Can you imagine a place where trees are taller than skyscrapers and cover the sky?
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