Rose light blooms in the clouds. Caresses a heartbeat into snow.
Phantom colors.
Phantoms.
Why do I keep coming here?
Tree branches click a cold cadence in the wind.
The sky is so beautiful. Almost alive.
Every second, it dies.
A gun shot rolls down the valley. Not harsh. Like distant thunder. Too far away.
Maybe it's enough to remember.
Maybe.
But cold is cold, and I like the sting on my hands.
It's easy to lose yourself.
For me, it is. Drift in the twilight.
The moon crescent rises. A cup for the bright planets. Venus. Jupiter.
White rolls its carpet to blue.
Who is walking?
Are my ankles red-ringed with caking snow?
A fragment of me entangles ahead.
Disembodied, in the black net of trees.
Give me five more minutes.
To the trees.
I'll collect my fragments.
Maybe then I'll know.
15 comments:
Collecting fragments...reminds me of Eliot's Wasteland...these fragments I have shored against my ruins...nothing more than a heap of broken images...I know I'm misquoting at least some of it...but I should go back to focusing on your powerful work anyway...the ankles red-ringed with caking snow...caressing a heart into snow...amazing stuff....
I enjoyed the duel conversation going on in this, and the stark cold and clear images. That mixture of clarity and confusion usually so present within the inner dialogue...an uncluttered description the clutteredness. Very well done.
Sometimes the greatest distance is between you and your self.
That fractured numbness that we observe, but don't feel. Sometimes it takes more than five minutes to collect ourselves, and plot a fresh course in that pure, unspoiled snow.
I noticed Venus and Jupiter the other evening, too. :) Really beautiful.
I like the surreal quality of this. You don't quite know what it means, but you recognize there is a meaning.
I love the disembodied element. Very hauntingly beautiful.
That photograph is amazing Jason - have you added anything to it or is it au natural?
I enjoyed the vignette too and pictured a Confederate soldier from the American Civil War walking towards home and never arriving...
I love the frigid numbness of this piece as it seems to flit from darkness to hope - the contrasts in skies, the frozen purity of the snow. Though disconnected, there is a stream of unity that runs through the poem - the connection between almost living and death. Dynamic use of diction to fragment the thoughts, yet unite them... cool.
Yogaforcynics, thank you! Sometimes the power of where we stand exceeds the web of threads holding us together.
Catvibe, yes, the mind interwoven with experience. The shatter of cold and solitude. The curiosity about what we'll be when we reform.
Sarah, the most frustrating fractures are the feathery cracks that widen before we ever knew they were there. (More than five minutes?? Dang, you know how I like to work fast. ;) )
Charles, those feelings about the piece are perfect. Because that's what it feels like to live it.
Vesper, sometimes I feel like that. In the quiet, the person I'm used to drifts away, and I'm curious about who is left.
Miladysa, I photoshopped the picture a bit. I was frustrated that I couldn't balance the sky and the ground how I wanted to. Along with other nudges, applying a watercolor effect tied the whole scene together.
Minister, thank you for your close read! You've really captured the essence I was shooting for. Very well described.
Reminds me of the vague hallucinogenic state brought on by hours in a stand for Odocoileus virginianus.
Very poignant and vivid. Thanks for stopping by When I Wax.
Absolutely wonderful Jason. I felt enveloped in your words and spellbound by the beauty of this exquisite photo. Bravo Jason!
The sky looks like an antique tiffany lamp. Gorgeous.
What appeals to me here is how you have illustrated, perfectly, the fractal nature that we possess. It is easy for us to subdivide, analyze, and congeal again all in the breadth of a winter's walk.
It is easy to lose yourself...I do it often...but I call for myself in a variety of ways...most times I answer.
KGT, it does give a feel of altered consciousness. I enjoyed your blog and will be going back!
Geraldine, thank you for wrapping that winter blanket around yourself for this walk. :)
Kaye, it is easy for us to subdivide, analyze, and congeal again all in the breadth of a winter's walk...it's a precious gift of humanity to be so fluid and adaptable. But those in-between times can be a little disconcerting. I call for myself too. Often someone slightly different answers. ;) Usually a better person than the one a few minutes before.
'Haunting' was the first adjective that came to mind. ;) I relish the 'twilight zone' feel of both the image and the vignette.
Tree branches click a cold cadence in the wind.
That line, with its alliteration, lingers long. Thank you. I've also enjoyed reading the poem "Winter Covers Thrown." Cheers.
wow left me with no gasping air ..beautiful as always you the write up leaves me gasping for air
Thank you
Nasra
S.L Corsua and Nasra, thank you!! I'm glad you felt the pulse of the intensity here.
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