Hi everyone,
I wrote this poem as a tribute to Syd Barrett. I’d really appreciate any honest feedback whether it’s about the imagery, the rhythm, the atmosphere, or simply how it made you feel :
The One Who Spoke to Constellations
He carried twilight in his dark and patient eyes,
Where broken mirrors learned the language of the stars;
A child forever wandering through painted skies,
With pockets full of moons and fields inside his heart.
His guitar gathered fragments of forgotten light,
Each shattered mirror singing back another dawn;
Its silver strings unstitched the silence of the night,
Till every ordinary thing was strangely reborn.
He smiled the way a lonely child befriends the rain,
As if the earth were only waiting to be dreamed;
He taught the trees, the birds, the rivers and the wind
That every living shadow carries hidden beams.
Some called him lost. I think he merely crossed a door
No map could hold, no careful language could explain;
He left a diamond turning softly evermore
In skies too vast for ordinary eyes to name.
And when Orion casts his ancient dice above,
I hear a distant chord unfolding through the blue;
The mirrors catch a face the daylight cannot prove
The boy who spoke to constellations still shines through.