Outside my window

The object of art is to give life a shape.

                   William Shakespeare

 

  

In all the world, I tread upon these imbedded stones made smooth by footfalls of forebears unknown . . .

 

Echoes that tremble my fingers on keys made ancient, hallowed by compositions conceived in the silent canals of Beethoven’s agony;

 

How the palette blues of Chagall’s oddly configured windows incline my lashes to half mast in the vibrant presence of colour at last understood;

 

That bubbling forth from watery parchment comes an idiosyncratic truth of a world divided, from a mind made more brilliant by its perceptions of wavery sociologic progressions, ultimately proving that buried, hart.rending graves forever speak . . .

 

In all the world, there exists not a language of worthy breadth to encompass the knowing that what my eyes and heart perceive is nothing as it appears to be.

Author's Note

the reference to 'hart.rending' refers to the poet Hart Crane.

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

You've personified art into poetry, if that's conceivable. The entire package is one very impressive, magnificent piece, but I especially love "the palette blues of Chagall’s oddly configured windows". Oh, what I would give to write with such caliber of talent that you exude!

[J]

Miss Kel, you ever sell yer bad self short! It is you I aspire to be! Thank you, dear friend, your thoughts always lift me up. I'm so happy to see you! xx

[Ed Hart]

i'm glad to see you pointing your pen in our direction...'Chagall’s oddly configured windows' is a well-invented phrase...again you find yourself in the long line of much used people who fit words together so that they say more...hello to you, my dear

[J]

oh ...... you are my prince among mere mortal men. 'ello love :)

[Ken Simm.]

Art is the language and this is Art.

[J]

y.o.u are an accomplished artist in so many mediums, and you honor me with this most gracious comment. truly. thank you, my friend. :)