Tuesday, February 22, 2011

A New(er) Poem: Testify


On haunting, starry nights in Bethlehem,

Plucking out an eye, rather than an ear--

Prophets, priests, and poets attest their craft.

But some, ensnared by patterns and pictures

Of airy canvass, instead seek palettes

Divinely gripped with pastel-plastered hands.

In vistas beneath the Arc de Triomphe

Of the mind, there a forgotten mystic

Applies a glimpse of passion by his brush:

Some speck of love and trauma depicts the

Highest joy in this transitory world--

That change is the one medium of love.

The brush flickers, embers burning boldly.

Their glow reveals an ever hidden spark

Which burns in those whose darkness lights the sky.

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