Intimations of an Artist Looking Up
By tan63
- 976 reads
There, resting,
taking a moment
for sorrowless peace.
Trampled a daisy on the way up.
No matter, the wild meadow’s currency will return
undiminished tomorrow,
released and sprung,
everything to gain,
nothing lost.
Daisies and dandelions.
Daffodils and buttercups.
Trodden and tramped and churned
return undiminished, year on year.
There, settled,
strumming, plucking,
blowing worries away,
keeping time and feeling rhythm,
threading notes and a few words,
satisfied, strummed,
it moves across
the high seeding sky
slowly, slowly,
out of sight.
Daisies and dandelions.
Daffodils and buttercups.
Trodden and tramped and churned
return undiminished, year on year,
year on year.
As the great sorrow passed over
the players make ready their bows.
Smouldering river over ancient stone and
hoarse, cackling fires,
play a symphony deep,
pyres, dug with care,
in the mind’s eye.
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