A lighter world —
beneath the heavy tread
— - . _ . _ . - . — . - . _ . _ . - —
original writing and images by @d-pend_ _ - - . . - . . — . . . — . . - . _ . - . . — . . . — . . - . . - - _ _
A lighter world —
beneath the heavy tread
________________________
Below my heavy tread — a mess of twigs,
A delicate and microscopic world
Soft-magnifies itself into my eyne,
Refined into the mystical mundane
By focus, softening into a blur —
A paintstroke of the fleeting poignancy
That follows all the lovers everywhere
With cold and humid contrast of the dawn,
With dew upon the plain, and on the lawn
Where once reposed perfection, held sublime
By arms now empty, fled to other clime
The spectre of warm beauty's innocence
Seen simpler still, now through another lens —
Through gratitude and sorrow for the loss
Of vision of exquisite light's emboss
About each strand of hair — wind-wispèd silk,
Each telling glance, more telling than the look
Of budding flow'r, of cirrus-stripe divine
Red-lit by dwindling page of solar book
Slow-winding towards a denouement in time
In which my density becomes refined,
In which that I behold no longer flees
From vision, but absorbs into the leaves
That from the withered branches of my arms
Are sprouting, and betray beguiling charms
More devious, for their more supple shape,
Affecting more, the less they make agape
A looker-on, a passer 'neath the trees
Whose boughs, though rigid seem, with every breeze
Oscillate and wend to current's bent,
Annihilate, illuminate the pavement
Where mess of twigs, and seeds, and moss, and mold;
Ants, and tree-cotton — concrete and silt
Languorously flaunt their greening-gold,
Far more majestic palaces a-gilt
By sparkling sun's coronannointing-ray
Than e'er in Rome or Ind were human-built
By shrewd-dissecting mind's sharp overlay —
Beneath the heavy tread of mortal way.
Words and images by Daniel Pendergraft,created for HIVE on May 20, 2020.
This is natural medicine @d-pend. With every step we take below the systems of life go on unknown. Again I am reminded of Calvin.
What do you do when nothing works?
If we look closely, there is a world that is born every day and seems to remain intact. Its beauty lies in the magic of the little things that go unnoticed by ordinary people.
The sun rises every day fulfilling the promise of sustaining life, the same life that renews itself in solitude better than with human traffic, the same life that collapses because of excessive human abuse and yet always offers the other cheek, equalizes the burdens and appears more splendid thanks to the balance of the natural elements that always, the man unbalance, but always reappear.
This is magnificent, I mean the way it rises and gave way into that natural descriptive process is wonderful. One can't help but marvel at how the images sold the poem itself and I was thinking the pictures are the muse behind the poem. Wow. Awesome shots too.
Thank you, Dan, for reminding us of the inextinguishable Light/Beauty in this moment of darkness...
Stay blessed, young man 🙏🏼✨
I'm coming with a comment. @tipu curate
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