Summary
The content reflects on the profound impact of time, likened to a plague, and its power to reshape the world, while emphasizing hope as a resilient force amidst chaos.
Abstract
The text is a contemplative piece that uses the metaphor of a plague to describe the relentless passage of time. It suggests that time, like a disease, erodes even the mightiest structures, leaving behind only the essence of our existence. Through poetic imagery, the author describes how time polishes our experiences, echoing the fall of great civilizations into silent oblivion. Amidst this transformation, the author finds solace in a 'hiding post'—a metaphorical refuge where love and reason coexist before the finality of silence. The narrative introduces a sense of care permeating the air, cast by unseen forces shaping human destiny, yet it also highlights an oversight: the underestimated power of seeds, representing potential and growth, capable of rivaling the mightiest of trees. The universe, vast and complex, is paradoxically grasped through simple, earthly elements, while we bid farewell to a realm of colliding worlds with the throw of a stone. Ultimately, hope is portrayed as an enduring light, even in the face of overwhelming storms.
Opinions
We felt how grain of sands have polished our callous hands we witness stony towers falling into the whisper of quartz dials
time takes them gently as castles seeded on a sharp dunes of friable ocean blood spilt with passion and desire
there lies our hiding post when reason prompts last dots before the silence strike an epitaph of love
Here comes the time of the plague!
can you sense twirling atoms within the quivering air it is the frequency of care cast upon the human race by anonymous surveyors of fate
the only thing they overlooked is an absolute of tiny seed with power to contain within a might of fragile tree
we may measure the universe only by elements way through water fire earth and a sip of air
while with the tossed stone we yell goodbye to fading realm of colliding worlds
- Hope is lighter than a speck of dust inside the lens of storm
Kris GageBecause most of “the signs” they tell you are garbage