Art: Mark Collins
http://markcollinsfineart.com/
Look around and see how this world
is created. How a protective mother owl
chose the acacia branches lined with thorns,
long and intentful, they
easily knowing
their singular purpose, impressive
when
there’s so much human longing
for the same,
and the owlets perched there, not
understanding that they are part
metaphor.
"Hooo hoo hooo!”
She could have chosen, let’s say, something
tall and in flower with lovely petals, soft delicate
petals of a particular lovely color, and there might
have been nectar pooled, readied for gravity’s
lapping tongue. That would
have gotten me
talking about the spoiled gods
of old, but it’s not
necessary, not in this place.
"Hooo hooopoooo!”
If you want to take something from this world,
the situation can get quite thorny and, sometimes,
it really should, but if you want something precious
to belong, to remain as it is, pray for thorns, invoke
thorns, call them
your allies. I find this interesting.
“Kreep! Kreep!”
Perspective has so many angles.
Look at them there!
How they wish they could venture
forth
into the wild, unknown yonder.
They’re scowling,
seemingly a bit grumpy, because
they can’t.
They could, I suppose,
but this world was created with
thorns.
© 2018-2019/Jamie K. Reaser
Book collaboration in progress with artist Mark Collins
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