The World's a Beautiful
by Darryl Price
box of wild animals in a tiny window and not just because you're in it, too,but
I can't really imagine its twirling
around and around like that without you.
The sleek massive bodies of sharks too are
beautiful in slow motion rise but then
most things are in ballet mode. Snows can be
a simply stunning beautiful curtain
but it's still a bit of a fooler as
an understudy to the sun's caress because
it sits quietly getting heavier as you
look at it, and it doesn't stop eating
the ground until it runs completely out of itself
entirely.Rains splat the roof looking for something
else to do besides the same old boring
steady job of keeping the beat but always get the thing done in the end.
Nonetheless, you could say it jingles as
it passes by. But like so many species
of elementals that's just one aspect
of its timelessness. It can break into
a whole family of interesting
faces at a moment's quick notice. This
continuous music then plays into
the heads of every living creature and
you get connected to things both ancient
and high through its many riveting, rich
melodies. Birds paid particular
rapt attention to this for so long that
they naturally assumed they must have
invented it in passing a long time
ago, all by themselves, but of course frogs
beg to differ. Clouds beg to differ. Leaves
unfurl and show their own evidence to
the contrary. Now I put in my own
two cents worth of ink for mankind. We build
grand monuments, hoping to capture the
holy breath of that wind to guide us back home again before the last darkness.
Bonus:
A Prisoner Refuses to Eat
by Darryl Price
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Author's Note
There's been a lot of talk lately, in the scientific community, about the musics of the spheres--how everything makes a sound connection to everything else and this,all together, turns the wheel of the universe, spewing out truths, warnings, prophecies,etc. The danger of course is that one out of tune character,one out of balance species,could upend the whole thing and send us careening off to our deaths. Another good reason to be good shepards of the earth. We've planted so many bombs now, instead of trees, that no one knows what that harvest will bring in the end. But I say let us counterbalance those acts with our own acts of kindness, forgiveness, and mercy. Let's make a sound that will incorporate the sounds of destruction without becoming ultimately destructive itself. How do we do this? I'm up for all ideas. I have a few of my own, Art? Love? Work/ Play? Friendship? Poetry. Movies. Comedy. Ice cream. Cartoons.
Other stories by Darryl Price
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Now I put in my own / two cents worth of ink for mankind. We build / grand monuments, hoping to capture the / holy breath of that wind to guide us home.
* * * * *
This is the bit of poetry from this weekend's reading that I'll take home with me: "Birds paid particularly rapt attention to this for so long that they naturally assumed they must have invented it in passing a long time ago, all by themselves, but of course frogs beg to differ." Excellent.
Place, elements, and music, in poetry.*
"We build / grand monuments, hoping to capture the / holy breath of that wind to guide us home."