Not sure where this experimental astronomy series is going quite yet but wanted to move it here to keep tugging at it…
The eyes of a fish tell all:
Where time is patient and easy,
Measured in long, deep stories,
And every truth,
No matter how awkward,
And probably still unsettling,
Swirls into some great closure
Not yet arrived.
.
Take, for instance,
The hotel lobby:
Shuffling lights of the metropolis,
Hub of travel,
And humanity lost touch with real places,
Like the warm sunshine of its own design.
.
Here, chances not taken
In the tenor of youth
When confidence was still seeded
Under unbroken earth,
Not yet turned to flowers.
And the wilted regrets that often follow.
But that’s time’s story to tell,
Obviously.
.
Outside:
The city,
Painted from afar,
In hard grays,
And street level stains,
Where the lives behind a million drawn blinds
Are scarce and fleeting imaginations:
At least that’s what the eyes might tell,
And the awkward split-second lifetime shudder,
That ensues with a glance,
On another Saturday night.
.
Shared purposes?
Or….
Different and far?
None of it really,
They will be quick to tell,
Not here,
Before I dare look again,
And see the stars so clearly.
Shaken Rain 