The Literary Heart
The Blending
Mixing black with every cosmic star. The odyssey became an insularity of dreams. Close your eyes and see a rainbow. Upon opening them a sea of black with blue waves surviving resistance. Is it only in this dream that the blue waves touched your heart? More so than any other vision. Black night cometh and goeth. While the day seeks the coming of light. Copyright © Susy Kamber Song Selection - Paint It, Black - Ramin Djawadi “Mixing black. With every cosmic star.” Black here isn’t emptiness or evil—it’s the vast background of existence. When mixed with stars, it becomes the space that allows light to exist. This suggests the blending of darkness and brilliance, shadow and meaning, rather than one canceling the other. “The odyssey became an insularity of dreams.” An odyssey is a long outward journey, but here it turns inward—into solitude, privacy, and inner dreaming. The speaker’s journey has shifted from the external world to the internal one. “Close your eyes and see a rainbow.” With eyes closed, imagination, memory, and emotion produce color and richness. Truth and beauty appear not through sight, but through inner perception. “Upon opening them a sea of black with blue waves surviving resistance.” Reality reappears darker, heavier. Yet the blue waves—often symbols of emotion, depth, calm, or truth—persist despite resistance. Feeling survives even when the world looks bleak. “Is it only in this dream that the blue waves touched your heart?” This is a quiet challenge: do you only allow yourself to feel deeply in dreams, art, or imagination? Or can that emotional truth exist while awake? “More so than any other vision.” It suggests that this inner vision—this emotional resonance—was stronger than anything seen externally. “Black night cometh and goeth.” Darkness is temporary. It has rhythm, not permanence. This line carries patience and reassurance. “While the day seeks the coming of light.” Even daylight is not complete without light—it longs for illumination, clarity, meaning. Hope is not passive; it seeks. ⸻ Overall meaning The poem reflects on the tension between inner truth and outer reality. It suggests that darkness and difficulty are not the opposite of beauty, but the context in which it becomes visible. Emotional depth, symbolized by the blue waves, survives resistance and may touch us most powerfully in dreams—but the poem gently asks whether we can carry that truth into waking life. At its heart, this is a meditation on hope, inner vision, and the endurance of feeling, even when surrounded by darkness. (ChatGPT interpretation)
2024
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Atmosphere
I suppose yins and yangs change places. Often not knowing where they go. The effects of which are pondered when received. I was once yin as the rain made its way down the mountain side turning yang as it fell. The light I became was for the flowers. They in turn for the air to carry what blows in the wind around us. The yins and yangs of atmosphere. Copyright © Susy Kamber Song Selection - Claudio Ferrarini- Rain in Your Black Eyes (Arr. for flute by Claudio Ferrarini) “I suppose yins and yangs change places.” This opens with uncertainty, not doctrine. Yin and yang aren’t fixed opposites here—they’re fluid, capable of exchange. The speaker accepts motion rather than balance as the truth. “Often not knowing where they go.” Transformation happens without clear destinations. Change isn’t planned; it disperses. This suggests humility before forces larger than intention. “The effects of which are pondered when received.” We don’t understand change as it happens—only when it arrives at us. Meaning is retrospective. Experience precedes understanding. “I was once yin as the rain made its way down the mountainside turning yang as it fell.” This is the core image. Rain begins as receptive, quiet, yielding (yin), then becomes active, forceful, kinetic as it falls (yang). The speaker identifies as the process, not as an observer. Identity is movement. “The light I became was for the flowers.” After motion comes illumination. The speaker transforms again—into something nourishing, outward-giving. Light here is purpose, not ego: it exists for something else. “They in turn for the air to carry what blows in the wind around us.” Energy continues to circulate. Flowers respond, air participates, wind distributes. No element keeps what it receives. Everything is intermediary. “The yins and yangs of atmosphere.” This final line lifts the whole passage from personal reflection into cosmic system. Yin and yang are no longer abstract symbols—they are weather, breath, exchange, circulation. Atmosphere becomes both literal and emotional. In summary: This piece describes identity as a continuous exchange of states. Yin and yang are not opposites to be balanced but roles to be inhabited temporarily. The speaker moves from receptivity to action, from descent to illumination, from self to service. Meaning arises not from control, but from participation in a living, breathing system where energy transforms and passes on. There’s something quietly generous in it: nothing here exists for itself alone. Everything becomes something else, for something else. (Explanation by ChatGPT)
2026
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The Literary Heart
It’s always amazing what exists under the water, sometimes we see what we know is there, things alive taking up space the water offers or simply making their existence within... wet. A coat of water around everything. Momentarily, as the wave recedes I have the notion I too would like that coat around me. Copyright © Susy Kamber Song Selection - I Will Find You - audiomachine “It’s always amazing what exists under the water,” This opens with wonder. Water becomes a veil: a surface that hides a whole world. There’s curiosity here, but also humility—an acknowledgment that much of reality exists beyond immediate sight. “sometimes we see what we know is there,” This suggests partial awareness. We recognize life beneath the surface even when we can’t fully see it. Knowledge without full access. Intuition rather than proof. “things alive taking up space the water offers or simply making their existence within… wet.” Life is described as adapting rather than conquering. The water “offers” space; beings accept it. “Wet” becomes a condition of being—existence shaped by environment. There’s no separation between self and surroundings. “A coat of water around everything.” This is a striking metaphor. Water becomes a skin, a protective layer, even a unifier. Everything is equally wrapped—no hierarchy, just shared immersion. “Momentarily, as the wave recedes” A fleeting pause. The receding wave creates a threshold moment—between immersion and exposure, presence and absence. “I have the notion I too would like that coat around me.” Here the observation turns inward. This isn’t about wanting to be underwater literally; it’s about longing for what water represents: protection, softness, anonymity, belonging, or relief from sharp edges of air, light, and separation. In summary (the literary heart): The passage reflects on life existing fully within its environment, wrapped and sustained by it, and contrasts that with human exposure. The speaker briefly longs for the same kind of enveloping presence—a gentle covering that allows existence without friction, judgment, or dryness. It’s about desire for immersion, protection, and unity, even if only for a moment. (Interpretation by ChatGPT)
2026
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