What a Difference When You’re Not Wrangling Kids

SATURDAY AT THE MFA

I ambled through the galleries
Until
Casually rounding the corner
I found myself
Face to cubist face with
Picasso’s Portrait of a Woman
So close, I couldn’t breathe
Like Pollack, lifeless in books
Pulsing in person

This art, so much Art
Stand before a master
And marvel
How did he, did she, did they
Feel such beauty into being
Pen, ink, oil, canvas, clay
Capturing longing and danger
Agony in sublimation
On display

Look with your eyes
But I longed to touch
Ancient sandstone
Carved wood and marble curves
Silver tea sets serving
Founding families
Did they expect their
Breakfast dishes to be
Gawked at by strangers

No. But those others who
Wove this magic, and
Brushed souls
Onto canvas, stretched spirits
Life trapped in oil
They knew what they were
Doing

They worked for gods
Not tourists
Pocket the pennies
Praise the patrons, but
Paint for the gods

The Watchers, the Whisperers,
Applauding when you step
Back from the edge
Of your madness and say:
It is finished

Creator create through
Your creation
One soul
Energy of life
the Culmination
Just a reminder in case
You didn’t get to church
Today
This is who we are

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s