Where words go from me,
the wild iris drop, and faces fall into the velvet rush.
Countries. Climates. Dunes of time.
Miles and waves, the empty plains,
the healthy wind.
In the space before sound,
the walk through me is swift and deepens into unknowing,
a mystery to be felt.
Faith becomes a canvas of chaos,
about to be blessed.
Somewhere we speak of art as metaphor,
then image becomes destiny,
but here we see that the play of line is raw
and transient,
nameless and content.
4 comments:
Wow...each line more beautiful than the last, I especially like...'In the space before sounds!' The art works with each line...lovely post!
just wonderful, love the words and the images just a great match, very inspiring!!
This group of abstracts reminds me of aerial maps. Each one of them makes me feel like I am looking down to earth from somewhere high above. And I'm really liking what I see!
As always, your words only add to the beauty of the visuals you create.
Marie,
these are truly beautiful - I think your entire blog has the potential of a great book - combining your art with personal poetry and philosophy and the poems of classic poets. It all fits together perfectly.
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