Art

Here in this place
Where mountain fed stream
Gurgles within feet
Of the art
Created by human hands
I am struck by
The truth of art
In all it's forms
The silvery reflection
Of sunlight off the water
The balletic grace
As the stream goes it's way
These find a home
In the fluid lines
Of the unique sculptures
That I see around me
A fiery red hue kisses a leaf's tip
Echoed in a painting
A woman's lips
She awaits her lover
The poet wants
To capture this blinding, joyful
Orchestra of beauty
To use simple words
To express what they cause
Inside
The words are never adequate
Though the poet writes on....

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