Divinity Pencil and loose graphite on 11x14 Bristol paper Divinity Within the silent echo of your name, worlds are born and die, evaporating in your touch only to be reborn in flame. My life, a meaningless series of moments laid end to end, contains no hope of redemption without your smile to enlighten. I breathe the breath of your mouth. My tongue savors the taste of your sweetness. My eyes cry the tears of your pain, falling like rain to nourish the barren plains of my resistance. In my ears, the song of your lament becomes a rhapsody of sweetest perfection. In my feet, I walk the steps of your dance, twirling and spinning in confusion until your hand and voice steady me. In my heart, the beat of your pulse reverberates. In my veins, your blood is a rising tide of passion that renews as it obliterates me, leaving only you to stare from my eyes. The sight of your form draws me deeper into a trancelike reverie bordered by your grace on one side and on the other your laughter. Within its confines, I find the only freedom I have tasted, and once tasted, I become drunk in the colors, lines and flavors of you. Come unto me, oh Sweet and Gentle Ravisher. Let nothing stop my endless, fruitless yearning to touch that wellspring of love that proceeds from your eyes and flows in sparkling rivulets in every word you speak. Let each fall in the fertile soil of my soul and spring up in gloriously colored blossoms so that I can lay them at your feet, a perfect gift for the Perfect Giver. In you, reminders of a distant past arise like breaching porpoises in the ocean of time. In the endlessly reviving now, becoming becomes the only worthy purpose and I its enchanted concubine. Oh Peaceful Warrior, let my fingers trace the gentle whorls of your ears and smooth the careworn lines from your brow. With softest touch of brush or lead, let roses bloom in your cheeks and shadows give way to light across the landscape of your strong but fluid jaw. Ebony crowns my vision and softest kohl lines the heavy lids of my obsession. I kiss the corners of your smile, curling myself into the crevices of your neck, a contented child who has come home at last only to find a ready welcome. In the gentle arch of your back let my restless, sleepless, seeking soul find repose. Imbue the canvases of my days with life and in their lines live again. Oh, Bright Angel, live again! JC 11/5/14
Posted on: Fri, 07 Nov 2014 01:34:08 +0000
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