astridianmayfly

United States

16 | aspiring writer & ballerina | lover of many things!

Message to Readers

Any feedback is welcome!

where only rock remains

April 21, 2020

The era arrives 
where we kill what
speaks for the trees. 
even as 
leaves fall
ashes to ashes 
they resemble the snake 
fabled to swallow our sun

            for nothing gold ever stayed.
 
Bring out your dead!
on collapsed horizons, of doomsdays
where 
four horsemen walk on a well-worn road to 
Oblivion
eyeing a dead world 
where only rock remains.
 
But remember how we dared disturb the universe?
time and space and relativity stand infinite and counting
but so were we on your trampoline,
defying gravity from the moment of takeoff
to a final landing on an imaginary moon. 
we were so full of pride and summer and fantasy 
that the fireflies became satellites--
oh, we tried. I’m so glad that
we tried.
 
I know what I endured, before:
the smell of coffee 
& adults that told me to pipe down
& crying in the school bathroom 
I know 
the gift they gave me 
and oh,
how I grieve for them,
the trivial sources of anguish
when only rock remains.
 
Understand:
this is a quiet protest.
this is the thing with feathers.
listen to it, fleeting & colorless 
but glorious all the same
bearing no flag and
drawing no borders.
 
Understand:
we are the lichens 
that grow 
where only rock remains because
when only rock remains 
there is something else there, too
this little prospect which
shies away in a box’s corners and burrows,
discarded,
in the rubble of monuments to sin
and it has been injured and 
beaten and
broken but it
Still
Breathes 
On.
 
Time has stopped. 
there is 
no night, nor day
but 
if sleep will come, darling,
dream of the flowers 
and potters 
who make use of the earth
of open doors & windows & 
laughing, hugging neighbors
fingers that were meant to fit together 
and how our hearts are only half of one. 
remember windchimes, beaches, autumn 
and me.
 
Welcome to a new day
where rock and that sacred thing 
do not dwell on yesterday
but remain
to create tomorrow. 
remember, I beg you:
hope has arrived

                if it ever really left.    
 
[Spoken word link: https://youtu.be/i5dhyYCLyrg ]
 

 
 

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1 Comment
  • Anne Blackwood

    Your performance brought this piece to life!
    Can I just say that other than your hair color you look pretty much like I imagined? Yep that's weird but whatever.


    7 months ago