painting

a photograph

captures

asinglemoment

but nothing real

and a movie

but a series of photographs

neither come to life

without injecting

our own reality into

the ephemeral glimpses....

glimpses of our

time continuum

our most cherished and hated

memories nothing but a series of pictures

endlessly

photoshopped in our

heads

ahead... a fantasy collage

constructed of bits

and pieces of the past

and we are

not so good at witnessing

the wild and elusive

present.....

somewhere

somewhere, a distant planet

an old man

in a tattered grey coat

hobbled down the

twisted dusty road

turning over      every stone

looking for god...

as a child he sought

only those stones

he could skip across

the river of life

or oddly shaped, mysteriously colored

anomalies.....

but he was fascinated almost more

at the old ones,

their unfathomable disinterest

at the unimaginable treasure he held in his hand,

and yet today

he still possessed

these solid bits of what was gone by...

a rock is only a rock?

but hidden beneath that vast infinite space

an unseen heaven

and a hell as present as the rock itself