Aidan Bell - writer
"Heliotropic"
there is a sacred sun, submerged in salience—
an exquisite, effervescent source of enlightenment
that tugs at our axis, whispering laws of alignment
at once palpitating and impalpable,
unobtrusive and undeniable
a quiet gravity we spend our lives orbiting,
mistaking its pull for coincidence—for chance
though it hums in the marrow of every decision,
a low, luminous insistence
we, tremulous architects of our own becoming,
are forever on the verge of remembering:
the blueprint of this cathedral is mapped
in constellation
and look—how we scatter our gaze outward,
stretching ourselves thin toward the periphery,
toward these heavenly extremities,
mistaking reach for origin
but even the stars—
those heavenly bodies of an unseen design—
do not burn in isolation;
they too are choreographed and careened
by a dominion
a solar fervor radiating outward,
long before limb, before language, before longing
"two sides of the same street"
Across the road, a world unveiled,
Two realms diverged, stories entailed.
The container store, dreams of the morrow,
Dorm-bound treasures, hope to borrow.
Yet yonder stands a haven of yore,
Climbing walls, memories to restore.
Innocence echoes halcyon days,
Where childhood's magic finds its space.
Loading up my car, life's journey anew,
Calculated steps, with ambitions to pursue.
But as I gaze, a bittersweet feat,
Two sides of the same street.
One beckons futures, adventures untold,
While the other whispers tales of old.
Not a child, I stand here grown,
College awaits, a path unknown.
Still glancing back, nostalgia calls,
A wistful yearning, suffering withdrawals.
For youth's embrace, the days so fleet,
Two sides of the same street.
Oh, to swing in the afternoon sun,
And feel once more the battles won.
But forward I stride, on destiny's beat,
Balancing a crest of victory and defeat.
So here I stand, a threshold to cross,
Both sides intertwined, no gain without loss.
Promise gleams, memories compete,
A journey bridging bittersweet.
Adolescent whispers still linger there,
In each climb, each laugh, a memory to bear.
The past and the future, hand in hand,
Two sides of the same street, where I stand.