Perihelion Blinks into Aphelion

 

I keep expecting

That withering indignation

That gripping gurgling sigh

To exhale red-shifted light

Dimmed by cold

Catacombs to arrive

But the sun keeps setting and rising

Stretching the summer like a twisted rubber band

Of a toy balsa wood flyer

A child ratchets the blade

Round and round and round

Till red rubber turns

The color of old knuckles

Strato Streak

A yellowing leaf clouds

Over a glassy blue sky

The balsa plane lurches

Upward, outward, looping

A joyful smile turns

To a tragic overture

At Meeting House Lawns

The old Fosser leans on his shovel

Ogling vivid pinks, purples, and reds

As they peek over the western hills

The bitter hours approach

I embrace the emptiness

As the candle snuffs out

Here's a poem I found in my FB note box. It was composed, most likely at my then workplace Seattle Door & Window. The poem was dated 9/26/2009. The title, Perihelion Blinks was chosen by one of my Grade School / High School classmates Paul Nauman. I had forgotten about its existence till Paul sent me a note requesting a copy of it. I think I wrote this poem while listening to one of my favorite doom metal bands Evoken. 

You can listen to the song while you read over it if you want. I often listen to metal when I do keyboarding work. Sometimes when I listen to  Wolves in the Throne Room or other black metal bands, I become so swept away by its dark beauty, tears flood out from my eyes. I also, have this experience when I attend Mass at the St James Cathedral. It's the raw wall of sound generated by the pipe organ and musical arrangements from ages past that are the most moving. I never had this experience as a teenager. Then I was too impassioned by anger and the aggression of power metal to experience elegance in anything.