In the street the day pressed its full weight upon my shoulders, an ache ran down the very middle of me, through my vertebrae and then on into my lumbar, tunnelling down my leg and out beneath my feet. it was as if the ground underfoot was dragging me closer planting me into the soil like roots. the sky above a pick axe that hammered at me so i would stay straight and immoveable, a cane for others to climb up and flower in the hothouse of those middle hours.
Every now and then, a pin popped the top of the white grey plastic dome, then the burning rays of solar light would spread across the stone walls of the buildings, creep from one side of the street to the other and all would be bathed in such rich gold, the peoples bodies glowed and were at once as ancient as a sculpture pulled by rope from the wet bed of the Cephissous.
In that light all evidence of man kinds modernity, the materials of progress, the engines of our attempted rule over the planet, are revealed for what they are; no more than hewn stone. Shapes changed to meet our needs and desires but its nature ever unchanged and from its place glued together by mortar it watches us.
It eyes us as we may a puppy rolling on its back, with affection at its ridiculousness, the hound scratches its back on the ground and its paws dangle in the air but unlike the canine who is eager to please, in our eyes is the desire to conquer all, the stone however remains unconcerned, its place assured until the sun finally eviscerates the planet, the rock long ago has accepted this inevitability.
So from cliff to mountain it stares at us with a furrowed brow as man chips away at it; goes to his death to move and refashion it into structures it may call his own but will always be material simply borrowed for the shortest of times.
Rock, water, soil and sun, these are the creatures that have been granted a degree of eternity. Yet long we as a race have ceased to worship them with reverence. instead we have tried to master all that is permanent and created deities in our own image, so instead we may worship ourselves. Is this our greatest arrogance?
