Beginners On Roads
I remember gazing at, through some moving vehicle:
the foggy mountains mystical; the setting sun; the distant blue sky.
It (landscape) winked,
and I (confused) waved back;
It (landscape) shuddered
and I (resolute) held its hand.
Then the area went black and white.
Meandering words, empty and transparent, filled what was once a visual scene.
I attempted to organize my thoughts,
readjust my lessening vision, reassign colors to words, place invisible meaning
into a little box called order and logic.
But the earth cared not for my pedestrian opinions or my confused and idealistic musing,
romantic staring as some derivative form of deep, abstract thinking.
I asked her what do the wandering clouds mean, the chanting brooks and the whispering wind?
And she said everything and nothing.
Everything and Nothing…
Well then the Earth is truly a genius, isn't she?
There is no meaning to be found, except for some formless, shapeless mass,
odorless and austere like blank crumpled paper.
I attempted to mold it, to shape it, to essentially create a somethingness out of nothingness
… like some God.
The clump, then, went flat, and then disappeared.
And the scene returned,
and the mountains were back just in time to be passed by my window.
And that left me staring dumbfounded,
for now there was no tool to interpret the return of coquettish waves and the expansive skies.
But,
I kept riding in the vehicle, still hopelessly staring into the vast sunset.
Copyright © Marc-Enzo Alexander | Year Posted 2014
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