Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the sparrow rides upon god's voice
he tells her where to fly
he sends her on her daily tasks
and fills her sails for the voyage

in the garden of the monastery
there are nuts, berries, soft grasses
to eat and rest upon
a bounty, secluded
haven for the meek and gentle
life extends from the mother
the soil, the green,
animate - inanimate,
i grow weary of these terms
these differentiations, as if
they really exist and matter
when even a fool knows they do not

how can i make you understand?
i can hardly make sense of it myself.
i catch glimmers and shadows.
i bask briefly in the epiphany.
i am easily distracted.
i've lots on my mind and matters to attend.

wall and path
blend and branch, trees
for the avian, burrows
for the groundlings, light
travels in its great odyssey
colors form in prismatic shards
though remarkable in hue and multitude
they are all the children of white

colors diffuse and are consumed by night
the deer nestles between wall and hedge
form and line depart from the rational
and merge into the intuitive warmth
selene's tresses gently caress
dreams coo and whinny
the monks sleep and wake in prayer
while god communes with the sparrow

i was particularly taken by -

... light
travels in its great odyssey
colors form in prismatic shards
though remarkable in hue and multitude
they are all the children of white

very calming pome, dude!

thanks. the poem is a take on of franz marc's painting of the same name. i've done a few poems that were inspired by his artwork.

curious, i googled -
<center>Deer in a Monastery Garden


Franz Marc; oil on canvas [1912 @ age 32]</center>

My first introduction to Franz. TY

this bit

how can i make you understand?
i can hardly make sense of it myself.
i catch glimmers and shadows.
i bask briefly in the epiphany.
i am easily distracted.
i've lots on my mind and matters to attend.

I almost lost it there
but the picture makes it
changed my grimace to a smile.

beautiful words constantine
thank you

I am having a bad word day Constantine.

Not a grimace, but a grin. As if I was writing that bit about basking briefly in epihanies to myself.

I have heard that Einstein said the picture is everything.

Thanks for the ref to the picture too.
It made the poem mean so much more to me.

thanks jack and cecil.

no, no, dino... thank you.