lulled away by a cacophonous symphony between two trunks, cocooned waiting as the longing builds to crescendo, to wake with the birds of paradise all a twitter. hanging free, listening to the sun fall. “did you hear that?” yes! all creatures hear the first movement, listen! the final philosopher is conducting. lulled away by cacophonous symphony, floating in a nocturnal speleothem chandelier, confusing echolocator’s daily torpor, the weak in the colony fall dead stupor. starved by fungus at the mouth of the cave, white fuzz fluffs in once priceless guano. others hang waiting on the moths, drawn like butter to the feeding buzzes, those with the strength join in the refrain. cradled winds of serenity thrush, old owls shattered by a roar in the air. the rukh returns from the void and the waste, collecting his due from the final philosopher. contagious child forget their words, look for yourself floating in the middle of this planet in its sixth mass extinction, sharing in the cause endangered. falling like dominoes species after species, all the ones that made it to the ark, carried to the waste and the void. rukh made fast work of the second movement, an agreement played in the concord of the sound. understanding in the shadows that fall after the noon, the sun sets revealing more truths. every death slowly destroys the philosopher, and with him goes the truth, natural extinction is sped up. the bird of prey carried more shadows away, an expert at composing hurdy-gurdy, the third movement ended in trumpets and bagpipes. morning was breaking with less truth, even honeybees woke early doing good work, every thing in the moment, worshipping the rise of the sun. glory! the final philosopher conducted the final movement, a poetic sonata rondo, waking hazily unacquainted with the rest of the piece, shadows fall with sun stalker. the joy still hangs crisp in the air of musical perfection, calls and chatters the conductor may never describe, disappear. all species contemplate one thought, notes fall from the piece to the void and the waste, the final philosopher is running with the truth.
Posted on: Sat, 28 Jun 2014 17:47:14 +0000
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