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1/2/2021 Comments

A STUDY OF IMAGE

Pablo Saborío

Picture

It is often film,
the water of experience
breaking against
frames of time.

In there I imagine
an eye, observing
seeking - suddenly 
weak clouds

          thinning
the blue, brilliant
light that made me stop
in my tracks.

The room quivers 
as vulnerable pouch
or organ
          absorbing twilight.

You keep wondering
at the end of the day;

is this how it is supposed to feel?

The bat beating the cello
with its wings
to find your body dancing
with eyes shut
while imagining the cadence
          some sweet manna,
that fuels the nocturnal.

These are only particulars
- not flotsam -
but chunks of structure
moving about in the stream
we feed to memory.

My body is out there in the seen.

The children of the Earth
are multiplying
with great ferocity.

We have become 
accustomed 
to this velocity.

It is not easy to bear; everything
germinating with surprise.

Is this how it is supposed to feel?

Thick minds
obtain appearance
in answers.

I couldn't explain to this 
child

why the dandelion's seeds
bend tamely under our fingers,
why they summon wind
to scatter free far beyond here.

All this is really a prelude
to our astonishment.

Of birth. Reappearances. Primavera.

& that which is behind 
the meaning of those pictures.

The beauty that is
          clenched
behind the scenes,
between the bouts of anger,
ephemeral cues
and the last yawn

that mounts rhythm 
to light
night          and new day.

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