Monday, December 31, 2012

New year incipience of wayward wonder on the winterseque hush of promise...


As the last night of December blankets the world in a crisp sheet of beckoning white, frost engendering doilyesque patterns of brittle mosaic across the stationary canvas of settled windshields, the  distillated tint of encroaching winter darkness, empty and unfurling and everywhere at the same time arrives like an explosive splattering of ink trickling across the stillness of five p.m. when the last hint of lavender sloppily leaks into the peach cream filled sunset aerially puddled in the overhead compartment of the West, a swansong solstice of hope eclipsing the carousel-shaped cogs of the now defunct Mayan calendar, the evergreen scent of pines, mingled with the sight of illuminated holiday wicks while everywhere breath escaping like a convict from lips, from the prison of our bodies.

On this the last night of 2012, one week after the gentle passing of another Christmas, bartering the baggage of the last year for the promise of the shepherding glory of what is to come, granting unbidden birth to the morning pink eye-lidded yawn of 2013, the green g-mail chat bullet of the planet still galatcically tethered and cosmically buoyed around the winking bulb of the nearest day star socketed inside the inscrutable fabric of the universe itself. The genesis of a new slate of incumbent January snow melting in tandem following the platter of stale new years eve confetti and exclamatory countdowns en masse that would make even the stoic collective chins of NASA salute in anticipation over the toppling descent of integers pregnant with the pocked sound of champagne hiccupping free from its emerald esophagus followed by a ricochet of corks followed by dry kisses and embraces and a round of old acquaintances being forgotten followed by the (interior writhing) realization of age and the fractured ineluctability of death, the cathartic gut-dripping insight that the allotted dash of seconds granted to us as a gift to thrive and to create and to love and to give all on the fallow scalp of this planet--this viable arboretum of intelligence and life--and that you are here optically indulging in the phonetics of this experiment of pulse and breath--that you are here, wading knee-high through this experience of existence, this time, this place, the joy, the sorrow---somehow you are (for however tersely) a part of this global collective waltz--that you are part of this tear drop trickling down the cheekbones of the planet called humanity and that your voice, your persona, your song, indeed, carries with it the most fragrant chorus sprinkled with significance and wonder.

-art by my brother Jeremy Berkely!!!!

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