📃🪶 Part 2 - The Response
Last Updated: 3 months, 3 weeks ago
What Was Felt Gone Is Not Gone - What Always Was Is Life, And Living Still
A hope-restored and warm realisation that what I thought was gone with cold nostalgia is not, in fact, gone. If the last poem is the feeling of the cold rock of a graveside tombstone, this one is the feeling of the warmth and strength of a tree beneath the bark - the realisation that there is life yet, and life persisting from the seeds and saplings and even the old trunks and branches of the old, into the new.
And that in so many ways, what was felt gone is still there beneath the surface, never truly gone.
A Hope, And Life Restored
As I lay trying to feel the warmth of life
I pondered
I realised,
The things we love are still here.
Even the ones that have come to an end.
Still with us, in our memories.
And in the collective conscious.
And we can share them in our artworks.
And share our memories.
Imperfect they may be, imperfectly preserved
The memories and images and descriptors
In our medium to express
Not something we can perfectly translate and convey to others
But that's ok
No
And that is even better.
Because.
They are living works of art
They evolve with each new beholder
They take on new life rather than being corpses revived
They are children of the original as one perceived but another perceied differently
And children and evolutions still in the telling, the message received
Some semblance, but not the same.
Thus, they are the best if both worlds
And beautiful, living, growing, evolving with iterations, they are.
Their message conveyed, lasting, evolving, GROWING
They ARE.
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