👉Poem of the Blue Impulse🫠
👉A story where two perspectives and times intersect
■ ✈️ (Festival / The Surface World)
White lines opened in the sky
Someone laughs and points a finger
Drifting in the wind, unraveling
Like magic just for today
If I capture it through the camera lens
I felt like it wouldn't fade away
With people whose names I don't even know
I was looking up at the same sky
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■ 🤥 (Surface)
The sound arrives late
After it's left behind in the sky
Melting into the sound of laughter
The memory of this day
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■ 🫠 (Transition / The Emergence of a Discrepancy)
The line drawn in the sky, just a show?
Or is it the flow of someone's prayer?
When I slow down the emotions through the camera lens
The echo of 'that day' that passed by unnoticed
A wave of cheers, a swaying scene
But a beat delayed deep in my ears
The reality of a time lag arriving out of sync
A different feel even though it's the same sky
The reasons for looking up are all different
Someone laughs, someone makes a wish
If this overlapping 'now' isn't just 'now'
Where is this sound coming from?
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■ 🌸 (Requiem / The Hidden World)
The white trace left in the sky
The same color of wind as that day
Without knowing anything, we looked up
Our former selves back then
The voices of people whose names I don't know
Overlap somewhere
Remaining without fading
The memory that we are here
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■ 👺 (Inversion / Requiem)
The sound arrived late
As if tracing that day
Remaining without fading
The memory that we are here
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■ ☁️ (Quiet Afterglow)
The sky says nothing
It just leaves behind white lines
The meaning that arrives late
We are still receiving it
👉 "Sound arrives late"
First, only the sky moves.
A white line runs across, saying nothing.
Still looking up, it is quiet.
But I know.
It will come after this.
The sound that settles in the gut.
The tremor that reaches the body.
It is not just a roar.
It is a memory that arrives across time.
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Together with the wish for reconstruction.
This is not a celebration.
This is a trajectory to ensure we do not forget.
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Ten years since the Kumamoto earthquake.
What was drawn in the sky
was a prayer,
a repose for the souls,
and—
a signal that it is still continuing.
