An Echo Across Time

We were forged in a distant explosion 

~

You and I,

each carrying a fragment 

still searching for the other.

Across centuries,

through every form we take,

that longing remains 

~

unchanged, unnamed.

The stars spoke us into alignment,

from worlds apart.

And still,

a part of me stays with you.

A quiet witness,

waiting for the moment

we meet again.

Maybe we will.

Maybe we won't.

But something within us

will always search 

~

And perhaps 

that is what makes it infinite.

Time III

The grains of sand

slip through my fingers.

At my feet,

a silent drift gathers ~

spilling over,

spilling fragments of memory.

Why didn't I see it

forming beneath me?

Or did they only seem slower then,

until you found me in a dream ~

And even you turned to sand in the end.

There was no way to hold you.

You slipped away,

leaving a void,

even in my dreams.

These grains carry the weight of loss,

the hollow weight of quiet emptiness.

Perhaps this is time's only mercy ~

a kind of poetic justice:

it slips by in a single glance,

leaving no room for calculation or regret,

only the soft, soft whisper of farewell.

The Architecture of Illusion

I chose not to add emotional language or technical analysis,

leaving the photograph open to interpretation.

This moment was captured to allow space for 

interpretation and reflection from the viewer.

Personal Interpretations:

The illusion of social containment.

The illusion that preserves society's status quo.

The illusion that feeds the machine.

The illusion that willingly enslaves us.

The illusion that never stops giving.