Thank You, NASA

I tweaked the title on this. I have a bad habit of editing after posting.

I listen to the sun now

instead of seeing it,

here where it sifts

into soft and solid hues - 

the distant road 

blue as Mar's dusk

as it silver-lines itself

along the rims of a truck,

pries

open palms in the nearby flower bed - 

sepal to petal

still bird to wings,

leaf to shadow

yielding themselves

like the cranked workings of a machine

heard in the measured doppler shifts

of its vibrations,

humming, humming

into the blue sky

upon my back - 

and wicking the sweat from my skin.

I take note of how

I can see it without looking up.

The sunrays 

bent like held bands

vibrating from each mind.

It bypasses the calloused skin of my palms

to become the thought

of the first split of an infant's cry - 

the first seconds of the slow cylindrical

spin

of the twine of metal on metal

fading into wail.

On the way home, 

the evening sifts carillon

from a cacophony of horns

with its baptism,

the oratory's candles,

separate the purity of wishes

from their imperfect souls,

the choir

from its unspoken thoughts,

the congregation

from their future selves.

The dusk holding home in its forgotten hearth

whispers.

Author's Note

I welcome critiques. Apologies for the title change, I have a bad habit of editing after posting.

Reviews

[Lara]

I like this.
"Machine" both evokes and describes, not a fatal ending but a birth of humanity...
A confessed Luddite, I - this poem shows technology, or designed processes, not blatantly conquering nature, but inhabiting it and... what a beautiful portrait of a lifestyle. By that, I mean: nicely written.
Keep on truckin' 🙏

[JustPlainHere]

Thank you so much for this insightful review! I loved the descriptions, which align perfectly with my mental state as I was writing this. Very much appreciated.

[SkinlessFrank]

Somehow this reminds me of the last lines of Flannery O'Connor's story Revelation where Ruby Turpin sees the vision as her destiny in the purifying conflagration of a sun-like purifying force. There is that power in your vision. But then you also remind us of the magical things we take for granted, the corolla of the flower and birth-creation, the mysteries that have no answers. For me this brings the theme of purity closer to something I can feel.

[Davidgeo]

That's a fantastic poem.

Are you trying to describe gravity?

[JustPlainHere]

Thank you. I keep tweaking this (I publish sometimes for the insight- as it helps in the processes), but more like a noticeable comparison between life and machinery - with us simply being conscious. I wrote this after listening to the sound of the sun on NASA's website.

[Davidgeo]

Oh yes!!! I know exactly what you're talking about!!! Wasn't that awesome and surreal all at the same time? It's wild how we now have a satellite in orbit within the sun's outer atmosphere... it is literally inside the corona. From cave paintings to the surface of the sun in just 40 thousand years or so, humans are impressive. Usually. Not always... we are also disappointing unfortunately.