How contemplation aids new
The following is a preview of a piece to be featured in our upcoming issue, meant as a prologue to the wondering The New Rhythm Zine intends to feature. It calls the reader to the moon to listen for thoughts, feelings, and history, understanding their weight better with distance.
The Moon Was Just a Room to Sit and Think;
we flew through vacuum to be—fixed and bleak
to stand and see the world, its flame, and us between.
Our loves and hates are far but seen—small and clean.
For eons, they came to silence the right,
the wrong, and hard, on stone satellite.
The ease to stay quiet, to sit and think
drew from them past resentful brinks.
Undisturbed by sights and sounds
they found a peace not yet found.
We built the world around,
incurred lives for what? For why?
They search and find the cycled life
means all that’s built grinds in their minds
might make man mean much more;
but ends will come, the means had made
‘Man had framed, the world still claimed.
Alone in rock halls we would stand, feeling the walls of coarse baked sand.
Awoken shocked from silence still, we return to earth’s circumferenced will.