The Canvas
The purity of the canvas
saddens the heart for no reason!
Do not tarnish it with tears.
The virginity awes the heart.
Stand in silence,
hold your brush in abeyance.
Watch it
and let it grow into infinity as vast as the ocean
where the eye fails and speech has no tongue.
Immerse deep in that ocean
which was the canvas a moment ago.
It will not let you sink;
it will meet you
half-way;
and lift you, and surround you and take you in
and your brush will glide and swirl and ride
over the crest of the tide;
a music sublime!
Image : Eberhard Herold
The purity of the canvas
saddens the heart for no reason!
Do not tarnish it with tears.
The virginity awes the heart.
Stand in silence,
hold your brush in abeyance.
Watch it
and let it grow into infinity as vast as the ocean
where the eye fails and speech has no tongue.
Immerse deep in that ocean
which was the canvas a moment ago.
It will not let you sink;
it will meet you
half-way;
and lift you, and surround you and take you in
and your brush will glide and swirl and ride
over the crest of the tide;
a music sublime!
Image : Eberhard Herold
