Symphony of Strings

Quantum musings and all the things we cannot see.

Light rays through the glass

illuminate the dust.

A fly on the wall hushes to hear

the harmonic flap of wings.

It dances in streams,

magnetic micro worlds

whose particles wander in

and out of time,

float through space on tiny wormhole slides,

send seemingly random messages

to an orchestra.

Each fumbling master

places their hands atop an instrument.

They lean in,

holding a deeply seeded chord

of remembrance-

waiting, silent

for the smallest flinch,

and finally release this cacophony-

a roaring bang that inundates the void,

then falls silent as death as you

zoom in

to slow motion.

One sweet note resonates

amid the ramble.

A waving bubble

echoes on the wind

like angels who flutter-

their uneasy skirts afloat,

clouds through a still sky.

These bubbles waft and stretch,

vibrating spectrum on the wind,

intangible- spirit,

weaving through creation

growing primrose, daisies and eight petaled cosmos.

These Fibonacci spirals

crackpot chaos to the fly,

who wonders only why

An epic woven masterpiece

to the one

who holds the wand.

In the stillness of the dust

open hearts swell to

magical resonant strings

blown forth from the mouth of God.

In the silence as

I wait,

I bend,

I hear

an echo…

 

 

Reviews

[Shellie]

I was also surprised by the word 'vomiting' but ina good way. I dont think it was out of place at all. If you take all your other wonderful phrasing and the context of the poem, I would wonder why the poet chose to use this word and theres always a reason. The imagery in this piece is fantastic and theres so much more going on here. The tone is so unbelievably fluid. Excellent piece of work.

[Sami Khalil]

A nice poem . I like the ending the most...

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you very much!

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Quantum musings ... allusions to a "Big Bang" ... musical overtones ... the Fibonacci Sequence ... I think I need a degree in Quantum Physics with a double minor in Philosophy and Music to get this one.

Are you writing about some sort of Butterfly effect that stretches from the moment of creation, explained by way of Quantum Physics, all the way out to the wings of a fly and affecting things ions in the future depending on the movement of those wings?

[Kristina Moulaison]

You could take it that way, sure. What I was thinking about when I wrote it is more spiritual perhaps, that underneath what we can see there is a connectedness of all things and something or someone that knits it all together, orchestrates activities or at least there is more at work then we can see, a grand scheme of which we are ignorant and unaware. I had a lot more faith when I wrote this that all things worked together for good. I still believe there is much more than the eye can see as evidenced by what is happening at the quantum level which suggests other universes layered upon or intermingled with our own. Somewhere exists a being who understands this infinitely better than I. This is about my reaching toward that hope, listening for the voice of one who is greater than I, grasping at understanding, as small and ignorant as I am.

[Kristina Moulaison]

I like your butterfly affect thing though. That's good too!

[Frieda P]

The imagery here radiates off the page, kind of hits you in the face, in a nice way of course, love it, love it.

'These bubbles waft and stretch,
vibrating spectrums on the wind,'

Such a light elusive thought pattern, did I say I love this? ;-)

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thanks so much! Wish I knew where the girl who wrote this went. LOL!

[Kristina Moulaison]

* The fly is only aware of what happens within its own limited view. We are the fly, ignorant of the beauty, the orchestra of life that is being conducted around us. I took out the word vomiting, which appeared after..."wondered only why, vomiting" I was very attached to that word. It spoke so much to me of how small and ignorant we are of the orchestra that plays around us. I had said before to the naysayers...You are meant to be shocked. Life is both beautiful and ugly on the ground. I don't know whether to leave it out or put it back now...

[Gus McFarland]

I quote this from Alia, a review from 2 years ago. "The word "vomiting" surprised me and felt out of place, in my opinion."

I see the purpose of this event as it takes place while the fly wonders. Without it, something might seem to be missing. There is an art to the event, in some peculiar way. Some feeling brought to the fly as it wonders.

I listen for this echo, as I continue to read more of the art that comes created within the words you have written.

Gus

[[untitled]]

Your descriptions are both eloquent and beautiful. A peaceful serenity emanate as I read these precious words. Nicely done.

[Donald Meikle]

I love the enormous cosmos of energy focussed on a vomiting fly. The expectant hush of each fumbling master, prior to the sweeping downward slash of baton. A sparrow would flit through a cathedral with less fanfare. What would a South Pacific sunset warrant after this!

[Alia]

The imagery in this poem is so radiant and beautiful. Having said that, there was only one instance where I felt like I was tugged out of the moment, out of an otherwise very carefully crafted piece. The word "vomiting" surprised me and felt out of place, in my opinion. I just feel that something more "in tune with the cosmos/masterpiece" would serve as a better description. And this is more technical, but in the beginning, do you think...

A fly on the wall hushes to hear

the harmonic flap of wings.

...would sound better? I just feel like "the harmonic flap of wings" is more specific and sounds a little better too, because "a" isn't repeated in such a short time.

Really, the imagery in this is beautiful and vibrant. I keep seeing a passionate conductor. More specifically, I see his face, his wrinkles expressing wisdom and ferocity when it comes to music, his eyes closed, even his emerging spirit as music and the cosmos and creation and light swirl and swirl and swirl.

Alia

[Steven Szepietowski]

It almost feels like a amusement park ride, one where you travel fast through trippy tunnels with light and weird shapes. Very vivid depictions, and yes, it topples these subjects of time and space rather well. And yet the last verse brings all these complex descriptions and moments back to seeming simplicity. "an echo". Well done.