Death is not the biggest fear we have. Our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive: the risk to be alive and express what we really are.
-Don Ruiz
A poem for today, just written. It is October, 8, 2011.
The lake is a myriad of surfaces
A weaving of wind-rippled sections
Clots of green algae, turned over
the bottom has come up. An inversion
a primal funk, now sitting on the surface
But where the wind doesn't touch it
Where the liquidity is still
The water disappears. A mirror, instead, of the trees behind
Undefined; no definition of leaves
Only pure replications of color
A patchwork of golds, orange and green
runny crayons scribbled on the water by the one with no name.
Where the swallow dives for a mosquito,
Where the fish breaks the surface
No image. Just blue brown water
No picture. No reflection. A void.
Be still, so I can have my living painting
Breeze don't blow, don't ruin my alternate universe
The smeared trees, like tears
Running down the face of the lake
The fisherman casts his line, and with the lure
My painting disappears.
-SLG
No comments:
Post a Comment