Friday, April 8, 2011


Everything that is
inspiring -
everything that is
provocative -
began its journey
to the vaulted ceiling
as either a flash
or a memory.

The artist wonders,
as he captures creation
forever in plaster:
What frowns will do
for this feckless chorus?
what's the right face
for original man
as he looks upon God?

He yearns to return
to the work of
rescuing heroes -
rescuing gestures
and postures -
from earth made
beautiful by pressure.

So he cheats a little.
He uses the faces
of friends and foes,
when no memory of time
or flash of grace
can help him
unravel the tangle
of history.

Centuries later,
I'm beginning to think
I will never distinguish
a flash from a memory.
We manage to
hew a holiday
from a block of time,
and we go to Italy.

make me feel as if
there is progression.
make me feel as if
I can meditate properly.
make me weep from wonder.

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