"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.
No comments:
Post a Comment