I'll leave this open for interpretation before I tell ya'll what I wrote this about. Let's see how many different ways it can be taken. smile



I sit here alone
in the stillness of solitude...
the aftermath.
Gazing up at a blanket of dark velvet
scattered perfectly
with the most brilliant of diamonds.
A calmness surrounds the night.
The only sounds
are those of nearby crickets
calling out to any who may hear them,
and distant melodies of birds
singing lullabies to the forest.
This must be how it was.
Life must have been this perfect...
this harmonious...
before progress replaced peacefulness.
I find it unreal
that only a matter of hours earlier
the world seemed such a different place.
Harsh rains pounded
while the wind wreaked havoc
in the trees.
They stood like soldiers...
brave and strong...
fighting a battle
against a worthy opponent.
But, as in all battles
there are casualties.
And when the winds calmed
and the rains disappeared,
though most weathered the storm
a few were lost in the fight.
I can see the shadow
of one of those fallen soldiers
as I sit here in the chilled air.
I can see so many things,
things that never before
seemed so obvious.
It appears as an illusion
of a greater world.
Greater in size and substance.
A world that must have existed
long before we decided
to improve something
that couldn't have been more perfect.
So I sit here tonight...
in the aftermath...
the not so silent perfection...
the darkness of night
lit only by the glow of the lights
that nature provides itself.
A simple reminder
that we are not always making progress...
that this is how it was intended to be...
before the aftermath.

The ideal poet has a genius for making the things we see every day seem new. ~ Samuel Johnson

I write because I breathe, I breathe because I write. ~ Me

www.soundclick.com/breeg