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art
November 2009 
Thundering Silence
Doug
India Ink, Bee’s Wax and Pigment on folded paper
25X19”
I steal from her, her silence, her title, her everything
Which is really just wind and water and yes I agree
I’m just a bag of wind and noise and nothing more and here is the but.
But.
What else are we here for?
Yeah, it’s just a skin bag filled with hot air
A little tiny basket hanging below
With the sand man hanging in heavy bags
A westerly wind and the heat in this skin bag
Floating this vessel up a mountain it has no business being on
Well maybe noise is why we are here?
We’re noisemakers and maybe hearing our own noise isn’t the point?
Maybe there is some other point to the wind
We gather behind the skin sails?
We inflate the body, this dream of being
And yes there is the gift of awareness
The I am
But yeah, who cares?
Nobody
And yet
There is a reason
Some moment
Brief as it might be
On one day
Someone stands by a window looking out
And they think
Wow, that’s such a beautiful balloon
All those colors sailing in the wind
Someday I hope to be
That balloon.
And that thundering silence
Calls a rain
A rain
That is ironically thirsty
On that day I hope it is a hot day
Perhaps children are playing in the water
And the thunder claps
Announce the beginning
And I fall.
But it could be winter, quiet
No one sees
And I float
So white in a blue northern light.
Access: Public
stolen moments between lines
stolen thunder from the sky
stolen heartbeat from the void
stolen breath from truth uncoiled
we are here by only grace
all is given, naught for waste
for all the words and doings here
it’s only grace we have to share
there is no claim to word nor deed
as each are from within, a seed
existence is carved from eternity
so briefly! To play, to be carefree
and to work, to love by candlelight
to sing and dance into the night
until the silence beckons thrice
and gongs the bell, and rolls the dice…
;-)
Ah you make me smile Mary, TY!
All of my efforts though i wear my hands to bone are worth a single smile. ;-)
stolen wind, stolen sky
stolen hunger, heartache nigh
unto the waking of a loveliness
inside…
The true commandments are buried here and there in the Bible… they aren’t the absurd ones that lecture us on how Yahweh wants his ass kissed, but simple beautiful things, Paul’s commandment “only love one another” and this, from the Psalms, “make a joyful noise”
I like this one a lot. It reminds me of a recent experience, interestingly enough.
Thanks so much for sharing your wonderful poetry and art! xox
Hi Donny and thank you!
It seems to me that Genesis was the story of the very beginning of a male dominated, human centric culture and the Garden or Eden was a time before that domination when there was some balance of yin and yang. Yeah, love one another but the second, Love the lord god with all of your heart and to my pagan way of thinking that means love everything non-human.
Thank you Lisa!
I wonder if I heard that story? xoxo