Behind cloistered glass
The color palate of
The
Great
Oak
Tree
Spins
Bare,
Brown Green
Yellow
You sip on a cup of green tea and
Hope for restoration
You envy the butterflies
Flitting in the bed of daisies,
The hummingbirds
Quick wings hovering over the trumpet vine,
A pair of mourning doves cooing In the pines at dawn
Sparrows splashing
In a fountain of stone
Apple blossoms
Effortlessly
Cascading
Down to the bright, dew-glazed,
New grass of spring
The geese, in precise chevron formations,
Soaring over a silver lake at dusk
Skylarks singing as they fly
You write long letters to old friends
Reminisce
On lavender-scented stationery
The cat curls around your feet,
Snug as a muff, warming your toes,
You feel comfort
You are not alone
You draw pencil sketches:
Unfolding, verdant panoramas
Undulating hills, vanishing into the canvas,
Sunbursts over rising
And falling sea waves
Serpentine rivers twining
Through blue-gray mountain passes
Surely there must be reasons
A cosmic plan
A lesson to be learned
So much at a distance now
Your body enfolded
In an Amish quilt,
A family heirloom
A pattern of interlocking rings
This is where you fritter the days
A spirit restless to experience:
The rich scent of lilacs and tuber-roses
Morning dew glistening on bare toes
Snowflakes freshening on your tongue
Can art bring
Solace and release
Recapture,
Recreate
Draw pictures, in the hope that memory
Be rekindled
Remembering how it was