Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Golden Orb and the Passing Moment
The golden orb of a dieing fireball slowly sinks into the depths of a slumbering blackness, while elsewhere, simultaneously, it continues on it's infinite path, as it awakens the other side of the planet, slowly revolving and lurching from the illusion of illuminated enlightenment to the darkness of sleep and unconscious oblivion.
The muscles fibrillate with the excesses of an ephemeral reality, while the physicalness of the moments supercedes the essence of the purpose and of self and the holisticness of the organism is waylaid in it's progress.
The majesty and beauty of the unseen force of wind is made known by it's implacable thrust and utter perseverance, as it moves through the leaves, bushes and trees, seducing them, like a wandering minstrel and causing them to gasp and sing to all who passes, and are conscious to the mysteriousness magic and beauty of the words and songs that it offers in the natural rhythm of life.
The rhythmic pulses, beats and cycles of time grind on at a constant and regular pace, until the perceived notion is that everything is happening faster, and for once the perceptions prove correct as humanity faces the largest evolutionary challenge of all.
In the moment of idyllic contemplation the robin heralds in it's repertoire of song, which belies the insistency of the feelings surfacing in the duality of the sense of prevailing urgency, while the rasping and cackling crow breaks the reverie and the moment passes.