I can see the wind when you hear it blow,
feel vermillion after the sun’s fall show
and see the stars after any daybreak.
- Marc di Saverio, (2013). Sanatorium Songs, p. 46.
1. The Ontological
The script is not literature until there is a set.
An audience is present inside the play
(there is no production inside of a book).
The actor speaks the scripted word “wind”
and that is acting.
The audience that relies on the actor’s words
are, themselves, only acting.
The faithful see the wind.
They are the audience that transcends.
2. The Cosmological
Solar cinnabar lost since the equinox,
I can feel you now, during the ice-transparent solstice.
What I know, though, is that the world
of translucence is waiting to fill and be luminous
because the unseen Sun is tilting.
The red-orange fire of returning returns
because it is always there.
The sunlight never left.
It was I who was tilted away, and even then,
practically speaking, I am not more distant.
Merely, I am tilted into the angle of a shadow
cast by the same Sun.
3. The Teleological
The stars were in the sky before the Sun
The stars will be there when the Sun is gone
The Moon was in the blue sky with the Sun
The Moon with black sky with the stars
The stars were on the lake while we swam at night
We will touch the stars again when they fall
When the lake is covered with ice the Sun will not unlock the waves
When the lake is covered with ice the stars will be on the water
The Moon will be on the water
The ice will break eventually