The Rest

rest

She hangs on the wall.

A mirror of my mind.

And I long with her and dream with her.

Used to want to ask her what was on her mind.

Now I know.

She is me and I am her.

And I rest in the knowledge that she is Eve.

Every dream, all of them hang with her.

Her gaze is our gaze.

Her stare is our stare.

And so I know the leg up repose of dreaming.

And you do too.

The craving for a chair to dream.

Go there.

A chair to go and write.

Sit there.

A window pouring out the slanted rays for a moment’s pause.

And dream with Eve.

Rest with her, with me.

And gaze a moment maybe more.

Soak in the world, release what stores up in the achey bones.

And sit under the tree of life.

And hang with Eve, the mirror on our life.

Woman, child,

And rest.

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(Joining Lisa-Jo Baker at Lisa Jo dot com for her #fiveminutefriday – REST)

OneWord2013_ArtBl

5 minute friday-1

Voices

(photo courtesy of moma.org – Pablo Picasso’s Three Musicians)

There was never meant to be just one.
The sole, the singular, the solitary
Voice.
Each designed, gifted, carefully chosen
Parts, pieces for the blending.
No island dwellers or stone cold soloists
In a community of art, no apart from others
There is solitary lonely.

There is exponential multiplying in a cord of three,
The pairs, the duets the circles of multiples.
A community of several and many has power.
And each alone, so beautiful, comes in
To blend, enhancement happens en masse.

Each unit grows stronger in the company of
Others,
Accompaniment and melody change sound when
Blended in, a melange a beautiful mix of mediums
More interesting than the lone wolf crying in the wilderness.

A haunting howl, in the separated from the pack.
Strength in numbers builds
The vocal cords, the instruments, the writer’s pen
Grows, grouped
In community, a fellow writer links the lonely.

So the artist lifts his brush
And the writer his pen,
The musician his instrument
And all the others their voices too.

The blending begins and the harmonies arise,
Like incense, an offering up and to and for.
Each a gift, each a treasure
Single beauty, facets on the face of a multi-sided gem.

Pop the cork on the bottled words,
Pull the plug on the hemmed in notes.
Let them float,
Sail off with a tune ,a song for the masses
Or the few.
But unfurl the sails and set free the voices of each who has something quite beautiful to say.

This month at Tweetspeak Poetry, we are exploring the word prompt, Surreal. Stretching and writing in community with others. The voices are beautiful over there.