i feel born again -
born to the vastness of human experience
with a vivid memory of the irretrievable past,
but sans any powers of communication
or any means to transmute the haunting past
to a livable reality.
i breathe this vastness -
i breathe this colossal silence of the vast dunes
i wanted the joy of the dance,
in stead, i feel the grit of the sand
and its moisture-less grip over me.
perchance, never in my life
i have been carried away
rather haunted by such an image -
a bright, vivid and penetrating image of the woods
responding to the winds and rain.
it stands in silence as if in a trance -
frightening, but so solemn a silence
listening to the call the rain
from a far off land...
dancing violently its impassioned joys in the winds
to the frenzied rhythms -
- the lightening, thunder and rain -
such a shower of passion
whirling and whirling into a sharpened pitch,
gradually falls into a silence -
so serene and blissful.
a savage, but sacred reunion -
and so poignant its impact
that my own heart strings being plucked
to a maddening rhythm
and slowly resonating to the plaintive notes
like that of the 'solitary reaper.'
maybe, under a parching sky
and the infinite dunes
i relive the images -
branching out my soul like a banyan tree
re-experiencing the lost music of harmony,
bathing in the shower of love and passion...
to my mind, which is a battlefield
of such contrasting, unfailing
and incessant clash of images -
- of darkness and light -
- of a grain of sand and the infinite blue -
where the wholeness of the vision, always bullied by
my own devilishly dissected views -
all what i sculpture here
at least it seems,
to lengthen the distance to the abyss,
or rather, my own faked self,
betrayed by the irresistible passion for flesh
and the impotence of the creative winds
shortens the distance?
i don't know....