“Free verse about illuminating vision of aperture and shutter speed”

Through the small round window—  
aperture—  
light kneels,  
gentle and unhurried,  
pouring honey-gold,  
silver-blue, or soft gray shadow  
onto a waiting sensor,  
each particle choosing  
its angle, its moment,  
burning its afterimage  
in the memory of glass and grain.

The world,  
in wild profusion,  
holds its breath  
while shutter speed  
calculates  
the subtle arithmetic of time:  
a hawk’s wings, visible  
in crisp matrices,  
or the river’s current  
turned to silk,  
slow secrets unraveling  
as seconds stretch  
into infinity,  
and motion reveals  
the directions  
hidden within each blur.

Between darkness and day,  
between what is seen and what  
is imagined—  
an illuminated vision,  
struck by geometry and impulse,  
becomes a story:  
aperture’s patient eyes,  
shutter’s practiced hands  
shaping light, stealing moments,  
so that for a fragment—one sixtieth, one thousandth—  
we know,  
with clarity,  
how a beam can carry  
both memory  
and hope.

Create Your Own Poem | Recent Poems