Fireworks

Fireworks Dark night, people gather droves flock, multitudinous happy hope filled faces. Young, shoulder borne before lapping water, curved sails, coat hanger. Dimples and shining eyes turned skyward. Pointing gesticulating laughter fellowship. Distraction from conversation, a stillness, dimming, silence, initial salvos. Awed serenity on the ground fire and thunder, artistic creation in the sky, rivaling nature, showing her up. Sunsets have no volume nor physical impact, are not so concentrated or glamorous. Your transitions take too long dear lady. I have no patience and only see mundanity in your sunlight, your water and turning leaves, your works lack volume and color. Lift your skirts and begone old lady! This universal appeal and fascination with shock wave sound and incandescence on dark skies. One of modern man's decreasing worships, Reverence. What remains, albeit briefly? Smell of powder, smoke drifting dissipating, a fleeting memory dances on retina. This is not a Great Wall, rather, a Babel which collapses and is borne away. Could these firework displays reveal something of man? The irony of such beauty created with fire and destruction seems perverse ... a definition of humanity. Some stupendous lesson eludes me. ©T.Arnold