A Mime
A mime stands upon a gallows
for a crime he did not do.
When give a last chance to speak
he remains true to his art.
A crowd of hundreds has gathered
to see his final performance,
knowing he will not talk.
The mime takes from the sky
many bright spheres,
lays them on a table,
expressing deep love for the companionship
and guidance they have given him
for so many years.
He brings the sea before our eyes.
Somehow, an emerald fin appears, splashes.
Look, there is turquoise rain.
He removes his heart from his body
and seems to arouse all life
on this splendid earth.
He mounts his soul upon the body of Freedom.
The great breeze comes by.
The sun and the moon join hands.
For a moment, an extraordinary moment,
everyone knows that God is real.
This poem reads more like a story and I would encourage you to read it that way, to let it speak to you as its intended, to impart someone's life story, their final moments lived in trueness to their own self. In Letters To A Young Poet, Rilke penned: "Most experiences are unsayable; they come to fullness in a realm that words do not inhabit. And most unsayable of all are works of art, which —alongside our transient lives— mysteriously endure.
And so as the sun set, the mime gestured on, mysteriously enduring.
A mime stands upon a gallows
for a crime he did not do.
When give a last chance to speak
he remains true to his art.
A crowd of hundreds has gathered
to see his final performance,
knowing he will not talk.
The mime takes from the sky
many bright spheres,
lays them on a table,
expressing deep love for the companionship
and guidance they have given him
for so many years.
He brings the sea before our eyes.
Somehow, an emerald fin appears, splashes.
Look, there is turquoise rain.
He removes his heart from his body
and seems to arouse all life
on this splendid earth.
He mounts his soul upon the body of Freedom.
The great breeze comes by.
The sun and the moon join hands.
For a moment, an extraordinary moment,
everyone knows that God is real.
This poem reads more like a story and I would encourage you to read it that way, to let it speak to you as its intended, to impart someone's life story, their final moments lived in trueness to their own self. In Letters To A Young Poet, Rilke penned: "Most experiences are unsayable; they come to fullness in a realm that words do not inhabit. And most unsayable of all are works of art, which —alongside our transient lives— mysteriously endure.
And so as the sun set, the mime gestured on, mysteriously enduring.
Extraordinary
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