Wednesday, July 17, 2019
Digital Images of Nature Taunting Me--poem by Dorothy
Digital Images of Nature Taunting Me
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
William Wordsworth
I crave it, the way
a wanton yearns for love,
I can, yes, smell the moist soil,
feel the spray of the stream
on my face,
follow the trail
into the wilderness
where the trees sing
in low alto voices: "come,
we will heal you,
hold you, make you glad.
Have you forgotten us,
our power,
we who are you?"
But these representations are not the same––
artificial, imitations, sterile.
So now I have only these images,
two dimensions without scent or signals
or pulse. Brave attempts to copy ambience, tone,
they awaken desire and never fulfill.
The beginning
and the end of every day,
each cycle,
now taking place without me,
who decided this fate
of lost connection,
why was I stripped of that which so mattered,
that core magic I once knew?
Dorothy Walters
July 15, 2019
