The Resonance of the industrial
Tweaked with consumerism
Glancing at exotic peaks
Lines of grey and red
Lines fall through turning rides
Shops propped up by the conscious money slot
Through reels of time
Keep turning burning desires
Of a civilisation
Leaves fall to pavements
Crumble to dust
Rust falls from escaping cars
Tiny seeds slept under glistening stars which garnished the ground.
The depth of the darkness was felt in the air.
And what could, would sleep
Trapped underneath while she was gone
The stale air thick with cold could be cut into chunks.
The chunks would sit as lumps in throats.
The dark days dimmed on until eventually she stepped out of the ground
Bringing warm rays which glowed and felt like honey dripping down the throat.
That sweet smell, the first flower popped up. The stars that lay in the ground turned to
glistening eyes as excitement bound for winter to spring once again.
Spilled through lenses,
Seeping through any gap it can,
A sneaking persistence to demonstrate looking
Looking with sight and looking with my mind
Perceptual thought spirals onto the matter in hand.
The matter of sight
To see a quantum particle of light
A beam of a bright idea sparked into existence from the trail you make.
eyes drink in the liquid light,
like lasers looking for fuel
Fuel to ignite my thoughts of light
A glimpse through the lenses of sight.
The gift it sits on my dresser, hidden in a tattered box it wears the dress of time. A brooch of art nouvaeu design, steel, glass and blue butterfly wing combine. It was gifted from my grandmother who received it from her mother, I feel a sense of being reunited with the past, with family a generation I shall never know but I hold something they wore close to their heart, the heart the organ which pumps the blood around the body, through the vein which mirrors the branches of my family tree. We stand together strong as steel, we split apart we break like glass; we are like the butterfly capable of transformation and living free but oh so fragile too.