Monday, June 6, 2011

I could not draw him

“Canvas 253”
June 5, 2011

[click to enlarge]

I could not draw him if I did not feel close to death.
And still he goes on singing.

I could not be him if he were less.
And so he goes on dreaming.

There was a waterfall that splashed on rocks
in the mountains near his home.

It was in a barren place beside the road,
where a giant had met his end.

So it was he guessed.

His father turned the wheel to stop.
The earth and sky confessed.

His mother knew the rest:
that all things be given, if they must exist.

Now, where once his heart had been,
a simple wish remains:

Dandelion, rock, feather.

And lo, the bird is on the wing.


Old 333 said...

Super nifty, William. A really good piece. Thanks.

William Michaelian said...

I’m glad you like it, Peter. Thanks for saying so.

L.Holm said...

Beautiful, William

William Michaelian said...

Hello, Liz. Thank you.

RUDHI - Chance said...

Like your P&P very much - portait and poem!

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Rudhi!