star catcher
The sound of antique piano floats through the air as if in rhythm to the falling snow. The two forlorn fruits of solitary visage unable to break into the solid states of one another seem somewhat at odds with their own love affair.
Ice a material thing; captured in the world by crystal design to flow in ephemeral space is a rare but fleeting sight. Intricate in distant theory but overwhelming in simple beauty; snow flakes fall so mortals can once again catch stars.
Sound however bound by no such restriction is far less physically appealing. Boasting of no visible form but no less beautiful; sound waves are the ocean of life breaking on far more human shores.
With my windows open to invite the first frost I am overtaken by the kiss of a frozen petal on my cheek. And so, by the leave of my love I play on.
"snow flakes fall so mortals can once again catch stars"
ReplyDeleteI think by now you know the gist of how I feel about your writing. It's magical. I'm captivated. Etc., etc. But it is now, in conjunction with my studies, that I really see how gifted, how majestically and naturally talented you are. You know the rules without ever having learned them. Just wonderful.