now and then
when I am safely wrapped in contemplation
of something entirely unrelated
to what's going on around me
now and then
there are colors.
they swirl around, centering on this or that thing or person
mixing then splitting again to rejoin others
merging, birthing
dying and resurrecting
I just get lost
I see
the fuchias, emeralds
cerulean and gold
and
white, at the points
everything touches
and if I think on them,
they sharpen
not just drifts of clouded ink but fragments
of glass and glitter
obsidian and diamonds
every one rough and smooth,
uniquely shaped to perfectly
fit against another and another and another for each
of infinite facets
and in a room full of people,
these make whole pictures-
futures,
things that are to be
or not to be
peering through the eyes of god
at his worshippers through stained glass
the eternal work in progress
as it shifts
and shapes
this piece here, that goes there
a puzzle,
a picture
I just get lost
Author notes
Critique away, for all the good it does - I suspect this is one of those pieces that will never be good unless I make it a completely different poem.
Comments
-
no - you are selling this piece short in your author's comments. this is good work. the imagery is so vivid. and the concept is unique. i like the conversational tone of it - it has a natural flow, not pretentious.
if i had to make a suggestion, consider removing the line: "at his worshippers through stained glass" altogether and make "stained glass" the actual title of the poem. just a thought.
all in all a great piece. i enjoyed this. - Mary Jo
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