Flux
Gary Glauber
Don’t ever let me forget
this moment, when liquid emotions first dripped down to form a misty rain, then eventually let loose, pouring forth in a steady flow, a strong stream down the brink of inevitability, down that mountain pass of memories and circumvented realities, life events circuitously venturing onto choices made or not made, roads less traveled and dusty back alleys, forming into solid thoughts, a dream, a pile of pebbles, a tor of torrential delineations, an intricate brushwork containing patterns within patterns, a scrollwork of lines that could be a roadmap of experiences, the vanishing point of some distant horizon, or merely the remembered smile of a stranger’s passing. The air is fraught with palpable tension, expectations, and ultimately the sun delivers a late afternoon’s illuminated blush. Sedately, curtains are drawn, lives shared in the encroaching darkness of eternal night, and change is wrought, an achievement no more or less spectacular than disappearing entanglements, the fickle nature of fleeting thoughts. Please never let me forget this time, when every dream turned solid and real. |