Our time fueled itself brief and we drove all our leftover doubts about the world’s disorder as stakes into the sacrificial ground
"We lit twilight candles and bowed our thanks" ... you have so many images in this piece that make me want to suck the juice out of every one of them.
... Our time fueled itself brief ... leftover doubts ... as stakes into the sacrificial ground ... left our fears pinned as moths on the collector’s cork.
it feels like a new language brewing or ancient wisdom being channeled.
This is an incredibly lyrical and moving piece Victor, and I got just a little lost at the end. At the risk of sounding VERY naive, I just have to confirm your intent here. Your last two paragraphs - is that something you personally believe humans are capable of? Or are you being cynically utopian? (Sorry if that sounds ignorant.)
I love the sentiment of returning, not giving up but withdrawing from the larger chaos of the world and accepting that we are "fleeting beings, trapped between grass and sky, beings that must make the best of each storm, each birth, and each passing."
I want to inhabit this world of nature and fresh fruit and family and friends. Thank you for conjuring it and putting it into words. I also spent more time than I have a right to looking at that image of horses on a beach. OK, back to reality...
This is the way to live the afterlife and omg I am in love with the "collector's cork" because i often try to use that sort of "pinned imagery" but it oft feels like a platitude, but you made it work technically and emotionally with that "collectors' cork" line - on so many levels.