When space is silence…

Words, sounds, and space…

The end

4 Comments

Sometimes the sun is red       
    sometimes it is not       
Everything depends on the atmosphere       

I shout in silence to your absence       
You hide behind broken mirrors       

We have a blue environment       
         far   mountains through afternoon glasses       

I face thorny visions when I try to set eyes on you  


               STOP   


Don’t stare at me like that
I’ll cry if you do it

Come with me

There are no golden apples in the horizon
It’s noon at the end of a storm
There is time


       WHO AM I TRYING TO CONVINCE?


Eternity                                                                                                   is gone
always has been

Only reflections with no words are left
flat images with memories of depth and a tacit conversation

We are burying the last sun tonight
No one seems to care
Fifty two moments of passion and no sacrifices for new light


_____Adriana Citlali
XVII-V-MMIV
XXIII-X-MMXIII


 
This is an old poem that I wrote back in 2004.
I reworked it today to participate in the Open Link Night 119 at dVerse.

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Author: Adriana Citlali Ramírez

A citizen of the world, born in Mexico city... A physicist (working as a geophysicist) and a part-time artist (creative writing, oil/acrylic painting, photography)… All posts and poems ©Adriana Citlali Ramírez. All rights reserved.

4 thoughts on “The end

  1. dang…this builds really nicely….the 52 moments there in the end…is a nice crescendo…i like how you use color through out as well….very nice piece….

  2. Wow, I wished I thought of that line “burying the sun.” And I love how you incorporated that number 52. I find various numerologies fascinating. 5+2=7, which is fullness of earth and heaven in the Hebrew/Christian bibles!

    • Thanks for an interesting comment. I like numbers both from the math-analysis point of view and from the mythological one. In the Aztec mythology 52 is a full cycle for a sun. Each 52 years a cycle finished and sacrifices were needed in order to have new fire –a new sun.

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