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ArtistPut this in a surreal place where clocks run backwards and waterfalls run upwards into the sky, Where water falls, so falls the man, A fleeting drop, a shifting span. Where life begins, he meets his end, A circle closed, yet none defend. Where sun ascends in golden light, It bows again to fading night. So, too, does man in time’s embrace, A fleeting shadow, lost in space. Strings of sound blot out the sky, A whispered song, a silent cry. The journey ends on shores unknown, Where restless waves shape sand and stone. Yet in the tides of night and day, Dreams of another rise and stay.
This image reflects on the inevitability of life’s cycles—birth, death, rise, and fall. It draws a parallel between nature’s rhythms (falling water, the rising and setting sun) and the transient existence of man. The mention of “soundstrings” blocking the sky suggests interference or disruption, possibly the noise of the world drowning out deeper truths.
We only live once. Make the best of every moment . dpworks2 group
