i wonder what the sounds of time have seen
as they crawled over ridge tops
down towards those ravines
like orchards they have sprung
and from their branches came leaves
such a fruitful mystique
a harpsichord drama
a baroque woman’s dream
they were dressed in the harshness
that of storms, that of steam
but now they are gone
like bees from a hive
for i only see the shadows
of their honey-whispered teams
a metronome, i must now become
the keeper of time
a brush on the drum
i will call from this window
over mountains and miles
i will tear down those walls
and reveal those sweet smiles
for i am the sound
and the sights i have seen
i am the one that wanders
forever lost,
in this dream…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari
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