
The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim. No artist is ever morbid. Thought and language are to the artist instruments of an art. Vice and virtue are to the artist materials for an art. All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. ~Oscar Wilde~
Friday, June 18, 2004
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Ode to Trees
Children of the wild
Sown eons ago
Oh how they’ve grown!
From humble souls
To greatness of a mile
Tamed by weather
Mellowed with time
Yet ageless, graceful
Standing erect
In splendid grandeur –
A fortress
Of tall sturdy pillars
Lining the halls of God
Beneath the hardened surface
Sprouts a tinge of humility
As the winds come passing
Humbled by sweet music
Amidst evergreen rustlings
Hearts soothed
Senses awakened
Among solid structures
Salvation is sought
Refuge from ravaging storms
Away from tainted lives
Lost in paradise
Peace alas!
Among these beautiful trees!
Sown eons ago
Oh how they’ve grown!
From humble souls
To greatness of a mile
Tamed by weather
Mellowed with time
Yet ageless, graceful
Standing erect
In splendid grandeur –
A fortress
Of tall sturdy pillars
Lining the halls of God
Beneath the hardened surface
Sprouts a tinge of humility
As the winds come passing
Humbled by sweet music
Amidst evergreen rustlings
Hearts soothed
Senses awakened
Among solid structures
Salvation is sought
Refuge from ravaging storms
Away from tainted lives
Lost in paradise
Peace alas!
Among these beautiful trees!
**~ Written in conjuction with the Environmental Awareness Campaign ~**
Sunday, February 1, 2004
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