some deep secret.
chilling breezes --
what do we see when we look
through lenses viewed and captured electronically,
zoomed and panned and scanned,
caught frame by frame for detailed examination
in our quiet, warm sanctuaries?
we agonize when it lies flat and unreal,
then race to the store for better equipment.
a quartet, a symphony close on stage,
tentacled sounds ensnaring us,
an audience snared by rhythmic bows and gowns
and suits and ties,
trapped sightlessly within ourselves.
what do we hear when we listen?
two-hundred rms watts, cable-driven,
perfectly shaped and electronically delayed
like an ambient cough.
agonizing over perceived impurities
and imagined flaws
we race to the store for better equipment.
we seek to manufacture reality in boxes
and wide screens,
yet remain unsatisfied.
while the reality of glens
and speckled shade and wind sounds go unheeded
and thoughtlessly crushed.
we walk in unrecognized gardens unaware
unless we view them on silver screens
and listen as the narrator limns the beauties
we so carelessly passed by.
------------------------------------
This is one poem from volume five, copyright this year. Others from the first four volumes (spanning 50 years) will show up randomly selected in the following day/weeks. Subjects wander.
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