(OBSERVATION)
THE SOUND...
And the sun... The sun rising attests to another day.
Some never made it this far.
Cold on a sidewalk in a city somewhere... Rigor setting in as the moments hold cries.
So many in disbelief as the cycle continues.
In the end it can seem so wasted.
Life that is.
Across the sky the sun moves through another phase... Joy as a child is born.... a hurtle conquered ... or so it would seem.
So many things manmade... Systems and concepts ... Formed on shifting sand .. A poet looking on from the periphery ... He would cross dimensions trying to absorb it all.
A whiff of the babies hair... A breath of fresh air.
Sun on brown skin as the day caressed pineal digresses ... Goes right on along heedless to mans limitations... The depths of his comprehension.
Sons rising and falling down... Severed silver chords and false visions of hue-manity as glimpsed through blinded eyes.
Sun glimmering through green treetops... Sun rising somewhere else... Sun setting here.
JERALD HAMZAHFARUQ MURPHY
