The Windmill by gishzida
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
Description
There
stands a windmill
ghostly
upon yonder hill.
Clattering
Shattering
the peace
of the rolling waves
of Corporate grain.
The spacious skies
now filled
with scudding dreams and phantasms
dreads and dooms
of those now gone.
Still
The windmill clatters
in impotent age
its rod
ever eager
to lift and hold
once more
the sweet, hidden waters
but fittings broken
gaskets cracked
it can only go through
the motion --
loving a well
long gone dry
For ages it seems
winds have driven
the windmill
to its fixed purpose
War
or Peace
Love
or Hate
Belief
or Not
It performed
as designed
above the homestead
now empty
Windows staring
dead
cracked
shattered
into the chill
bleak
November sky.
Window dressings torn
Curtains threadbare
shrouds
which cannot hide
the loss
the pealing paint
or
faded daisy print wallpaper
or
broken dishes on the floor
and
There
a single crystal glass
of a wedding pair
stands testament
to faithful
Love.
The windmill screams
in protest
against
the loss
of the sweetness
it can no longer hold
yet its cries
ring metallic
now
lost
blowing in the wind.
--------------
Footnotes:
An entry for November Writer's theme.
For some weird reason I was unable to upload the rendered image to go with this so go here: http://www.renderosity.com/mod/gallery/index.php?image_id=2484800 to see the render
Comments (3)
ronmolina
Nice!
Wolfenshire
Oh wow, this is great!! I think it fits the challenge well, and even fits Octobers challenge too. The words are a bit sad, thinking of the majestic windmill that served so well for so long, and even with its purpose gone it continues to try to serve masters that have long gone from the world, or at the least have long abandoned it to its fate.
gishzida
The inspiration is a painting that I have hanging on my dining room wall given to me by my late mother and the desert "getaway" place my parents once owned in the high desert in the Antelope Valley, CA [about 50 miles due west of Edwards Air Force Base]. The place always had a "wind gradient" up toward the peaks of the Tehachapi range or down toward the valley floor. The wind blew there at least twice a day every day of the year. There were two wells and at one time there had been windmills... One thing led to another and another... the metaphors abounded... Sometimes the things we make become symbols of what we are [or what we become] or what we once were.
auntietk
Nicely done! I can hear the creak and see the scene.