Monday, January 9, 2012

Wilderness


A soul-painting from a very old book? Perhaps,
or a love that forgets her name; and then a leaf falls —
a page, a line, an age of kind and wordless ways,
soft as wind through sage, to sleep, to dusk,
to fate — to heal the rock of your face.


8 comments:

Bitch said...

William!
I could dream with your words..
Really in heaven (and then ... does this exists?)...

William Michaelian said...

It does now Monika! and for proof, be sure to visit the page with Robert’s beautiful photograph.

Transcend Designs said...

beautiful works & words indeed,
thank you for another amazing artists' link William...!

how cool is it to live in a world full of artists that we can actually appreciate, where not to long ago, we were all truly stuck in our little rooms unless we 'knew' someone that could display our work somewhere...

William Michaelian said...

Glad to point you toward these temporal rooms, Brad, thank you. And right you are — the current arrangement is a heck of a lot better than “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.”

Jan "Jan's Paintings" said...

Robert's photo is so ethereal, as are your words, William. I could swear that I heard soft music as I read them.

William Michaelian said...

As I did when looking at Robert’s photo, and now again upon hearing your kind words, Jan. Thank you.

Geckostone said...

Wow, your words match the beauty of the photo, you always take us on such a wonderful journey William. Do I really have to go to work now? Sigh...

William Michaelian said...

I suppose so, Deb. But at least you were able to pass through the wilderness on your way. Thanks!