Symbol Key:
+: snap on syllable
/: rest on syllable
—
I must have been a sculptor in a past life.
I can’t spend a moving day without studying
The faces of people I walk past,
And I mean really study.
You see, I’ve been a chronic stare-er since childhood
And a lot of people find that weird,
But I can’t help it; I have an insatiable curiosity
For human visages.
|/ +|
Every tint.
|/ +|
Every hue.
|/ + | / + | / + | / + | / + / | / + | / + | / |
Every hook-and-curve-and-swoop-and-pore-and-angle-and-line-and-shine …
|/ + | / |
Intrigues me.
When my eyes study the eyes of another,
I miraculously uncover
The portal of an obscure spiritual realm.
It is in that moment that I recognize
The interconnectedness of
The human race through the
God and the eternal energy we call
The Universe.
And maybe that’s why
(deep
down
in
the
hidden
nooks
and
crannies
of
my essence)
I find it arduous to move on from those
Who haunt my reminiscence.
Their image and soul are imprinted on mine.
I can try to erase them from my memory
All I want,
But my hands etch-and-sketch
And-carve-and trace their features
From thin air
Whether I ought to,
Or not.
I must have been a sculptor in a past life,
For I shall carry the carvings of those I loved
Until the end of Time.
—
Author Bio: Angell is a second-year philosophy student. In their poem, they touch on the theme of love through the lenses of a humanist and a person who has created deep personal bonds and, in some cases, lost them. They invite any reader to fully immerse themselves in the universal essence of this poem. Recite it. Perform it. Make it yours. This is their gift to you.
—
Recollections: Of Being is a literary column brought to you by The Collegian, founded and organized by Aura Peredia. We publish writing and art, either political or personal, to create a bridge between varying valley voices.
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Previous Installment of Recollections: Of Being
On Living with Dead People 2012
