Skip to main content

Elemental Rift 1: This is Desert

This is desert.
The heat drains my energy,
until it feels like my soul has been pulled through my crown.
When I try to look around,
all I feel is my body churning,
my head still, as if fixed on a screen.
I rub my eyes and they fill with sand.

The dunes rise,
and lash at my body.
I'm simultaneously elevated,
to break down in the same scene,
and also buried;
smothered beneath the weight of sand.
This eternal cycle.

I rub my eyes and they fill with sand,
clarity failing,
horizon constraining,
I am the water that takes the shape
of what is around,
and here is shapeless shifting.
This is desert.


[Inspired by the music of Ben Howard and John Luther Adams]

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

mirror the dark

darkness swallows the nighttime  flick   light flits from the ignored expanse.        midnight mirror misleads the eye amongst the gloom.       all reflections confound at night.     as i'm watching what light there is    seems to hover between the walls. clocks rush through hours in one tick.          i turn to look towards outside.     daytime window reflects sometimes - part-time mirror that in a mind       click can flip to being a hole to the outside.    i am trapped here in-between. as          what's before me stares blankly back, water creeps down my spine again.              as sun arcs,  changing light confounds. whether via mirror, window or air, and however you look, all light arrives distorted - it's the rogue echoes half-light dance, curving through the tur...

City

Clouds, formed from distant oceans, sometimes attempt the dropping  of a blanket  of snow on the city, but the heat of bustling bodies never seem to allow it to last. There are so many people here, that my mind sometimes feels crushed beneath the weight of their imagined lives. It sprawls. I have been traversing it for hours, legs and wheels whirring around and below me, and yet on it goes, out of sight and out of mind, almost. It's remarkable that somewhere big enough to hold the days and dreams of millions, could be so oppressive, so constricting in its expansion. All these lives go on, and spiral and intersect and connect and sustain, into a possible future, where no four-by-fours, no cars at all, wind through these streets, congesting our lungs. Where classes are just for the exploration of expression, engaging with interest, for interaction. Where the national park of the city, flows with diversity, braiding humanity with earth. But for now, it sprawls, and I search for t...