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Rare Pictures

Poetry By: dibbledabble
Poetry



My entry to my own challenge, call it a long poem or prose. I am sure we have all stood in awe of nature the full impact only able to be appreciated by ourselves

Still time to join in the challenge. GO ON YOU KNOW YOU WANT TOO!


Submitted:Feb 16, 2012    Reads: 40    Comments: 13    Likes: 3   


Rare Pictures

The rarest pictures belong to the mind.

Sure, I can show you something wondrous and sublime and you will say, yeah that is something to behold, even amazing. Devine! And with every ounce of sincerity mean it. But when you are stood gazing are you really taking it all in? Are you transported to that place in that moment of time?

How about this for an example: This image I am showing you.

It is cold, so cold that the air is unalloyed, sharp and clean. Can you feel it nipping at your nose and biting your ears? Fill your lungs, take a deep breath: The air so cold it will make you cough and sputter if you inhale too deeply. Does the untainted stillness fill your nostrils and awaken the senses? When was the last time you had your fill of unadulterated clean air? Can you smell it? Can you smell the rising morn? Does the chilled purity tease your pallet; a refreshing sorbet between sleep and the day ahead? Can you taste dawn's gift? Does winters bouquet rest on your lips?

As you gaze at the image, what do you hear? That car a mile gone, urgently beating the tarmac you are stood upon, but travelling away? Other than that, nothing! A pin dropping silence; so very very quiet. Not even the birds sing their dawn chorus: or the sheep bleat as they stand or sit mutely grazing. As if they, with you are listening for who will shatter the peace. Can you hear yourself breath? Are you slowing the rise and fall of your chest and breathing most shallow for fear of breaking the spell?

And the colour; when you look through the oak framed image and passed that single stubborn auburn leaf. Rising out of the moon blue snow covered earth; beyond blackened hedgerow and silhouetted horse chestnut is the sun. A stunning burning orb. Huge and commanding thrusting out cinnabar arms low in the horizon; casting bright yellow haloed intent into the navy blue sky. Look hard at the searing sphere! Does its intensity burn your eyes? Can you look deep into the fiery orb and hold your gaze, or do you have to look away, tears streaming? Isn't even the one sense you can truly employ deceiving you?

Here is the image, I have digitally captured it; but the moment has gone. That moment that can only be experienced with all five senses not vision alone. Now the memory remains locked forever in the picture taken by my mind. Personally unique. A once only lived moment. I share the image but the full picture is mine alone.

This is what I mean when I say;

The rarest pictures belong to the mind.





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