I stood on my third floor balcony, looking up to the heavens
and I will be truthful, I became afraid. That huge, reddish-gold
ball loomed before my eyes; it seemed an apparition jumped
dimension, the moon, so huge, coming low to touch the earth.
I knew the moon was not falling, gravitational waves were not
shaking up the globe; but instinct found no other explanation
to a moon filling up the sky. I stayed a while, staring out, easy in
my logic, but turbulent in my soul. The eye for God now wider.
Science has since explained it to me as the horizon effect. The eye
calculates parallel sight by earth’s dimensions, so when the moon's
angle is seen by earth standards the mind projects it as closer,
and by some automatic transference, mind makes her larger as well.
OK, I am told it was not real, but the adjustment of a mechanism,
but instead of this cold talk bringing me down, I am more amazed
at the creative powers of the mind; and began to ask questions,
who am I, really? Why the infinity? What gift, this consciousness?
Comments
Brilliant in almost every way, Tyro
Thought provoking, intelligent, wonderful imagery. My only complaint is that it sounds more prosaic than prosodic.
Imagine, if you will, writing it with some prosodic devices such as meter, assonance, consonance and/or alliteration, NOT rhyme, that would spoil it. The enjambment is already working well.
That would make it a major work.
Hi Weirdelf
Hi Weirdelf
You are right about the prose feel, especially stanza three.This was one time it just poured out, and my tinkering did not make it better in my eyes, so I left it as it was.
I know the feeling.
I edited my original comment which suggested you re-write from scratch, which felt a bit um... dismissive? Not meant to be.
What I would do is spend a few hours reading some highly lyrical prose and some highly metrical unrhymed poetry, to put me into a prosodic mindset then try again.
That is something, a trick of the trade, that I actually do.
I think I can handle the
I think I can handle the metrics although it well be a lot of work. Not in the mood for work, but if I get inspiration, I might give it a start tonight.
oo, I'm not fond of work
do some reading, which is fun and rewarding in itself,
if that inspires a rework, so be it,
good luck.
who am I, really? Why the infinity? What gift, this consciousnes
who am I, really? Why the infinity? What gift, this consciousness?
These are conjectures
of every human mind
each one of one's on has to answers find
don't rely on another's mind
as ignorant may be more
than yours and mine
combined
Thanks Lovedly
Thanks Lovedly
I agree with your observations.
Ah
The observer by observing changes or creates reality. Gets a person thinking cosmotically.....stan
"The observer by observing
"The observer by observing changes or creates reality"
My point, exactly.
oo oo, Stan critiquing in terms of theoretical physics!
onya mate!
Yes,
Loved the subject and your images,
but I'll have to agree with Jess, prose
was what I was thinking as I read it.
thank you for sharing your eye,
Richard
thanks Themoonman,
thanks Themoonman,
for your apt comment.