Under New Suns
Reading Time: 2 minutes
It strikes me as utterly strange that Anna's youngest grandkids - the twins Harry and Ville, 18 months old - will consider me, if at all, as an anonymous shadow out of the past, only experienced, perhaps, as an insignificant name, fleeting past in some adult conversation, at the best in a story of some exotic behaviour of mine that survives me, though, at the time of writing, at almost 74, I work so hard, out of lust and inspiration, with exercise, sound art and poetry in a life full of life, eagerly absorbed in project after gigantic project, just for the pleasure of working and applying what only I can apply, with the individual flavour that I have been allotted, and which all people, in their own ways, possess, whether they're aware of it or not So where does it all fit together? Where does it connect? Because surely all things do connect, in the generative fabric of the Tao And some day later generations will listen as Ville's and Harry's names breeze by like autumn leaves in a flurry, themselves long gone, shadows of old men having served well; their offspring fulfilling new worlds as far as imagination reaches, where last breaths are waves to surf under new suns © Ingvar Loco Nordin 2022
Thoughtful and wonderful poem.
You can certainly see your writing skills in your work. All the time go after your heart.
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