Sunday, October 24, 2010

Spiral Drawing ~

Spiral Drawing ~

Ping ping, the chisel hits
the stone, ringing something like
a flavor in my thought,
of the hickory flames, and the deep blue sky,
a sentinel crow
croaking to itself,
sun and shadow on my skin.

The rock chips fly, white dust
falls on the ground. I'm following
the round of a spiral's curve,
cutting down
through substance older
than my kind,
well past the middle point in time.

Death, and birth, and all extremes
are distant, like a bell -
clangorous when close, melodic at a mile.
Beyond all hope now I am loved
as much as I desire, have glimpsed complete
the beauties of my dream,
and even touched them with my hand.

Art is called to show
all things; to turn a stone into a phonograph,
as though it mattered
deeply, in ten thousand years,
that at the instant of the strike
I loved you more than all my words describe.
There is no reason otherwise.


KimieK said...

This captures that feeling of being filled with pure and absolute love from another so beautifully.

I can feel the warmth and hear the music of love in each word. I can almost feel it right along with you.

SBD said...

absolutely gorgeous

Happier said...

"Being filled with pure and absolute love from another" ... that's how I felt while we emailed, yet was so deeply ridiculed for it.