Destino

A Poem by Douglas Caraballo

Photo by Giorgia Doglioni on Unsplash

Something has disappeared,
and you don’t know what.

There is a shift you are witnessing

Oil progresses to sketches,
Slides back and breaks apart the body.
You are watching something occur,
but you don’t know its origin;
its destination is abstracted
and multi varient.

It is like wind to the ancients,
or life itself for the moderns.
Something that happens and recomposes
the landscape.

It is like watching sand
at the bottom of the sea,
knowing that it was in the heart of a star,
and that it’s destiny is desert.

Something has disappeared,
and the void must be refilled.