Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Into the Mighty Falls

There is a man taking form
beneath a woven sky
before unbroken mountains
above the mighty falls.

Gentle waves birthed him:
midnight depths shade weary eyes
scratched on penciled cheekbones;
charcoal mountains frame him.
Smoky clouds congeal
as painted waters fall:
starless black, ashen grey -
the artist's midnight palette.

Pouring his shadowed soul
onto reflective canvas,
the painter's rain lashes
the lines of his eyes.
Brushstroke pupils gaze
beyond their watercolor prison
reflecting the darkness layered
upon his broken portrait.

And the man is dissolving,
plunged beneath the waters,
freed from canvas prisons
into the mighty falls.

Also shared at WWP #163. More poems.

3 comments:

  1. Oh wow, this is sublime I have always loved poetry that speaks of art

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