I have witnessed your redemption.
It didn't come like a flood
With a tragic surprise,
It grew with patience and power
In precise brush touches,
Oil on oil on Venetian stone.
I have witnessed your redemption.
It was not couched in false verses
Of maidenly rhymes or pious hymns.
It just fragmented,
Light from a pinhole obscurer
Scorching a cyclorama.
I have witnessed your redemption.
Not in dreams so much as prophesy.
In visions that come as ready-cooked
Revelations for the exhausted.
Your psyche was warm and your skin, sinless.
Your joy was not delirium, but born
From a rigorous noesis.
Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment