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Array
(
[sid] => 110689
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Dream Imbedded
[time] => 2005-12-01 07:45:04
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => A Dream Imbedded Above my door... About my door... Surrounding the door... Enveloping the door to my innermost yearnings, there breathes a living landscape of hope, a simply constructed paper countryside, a pulpwood world in which dream is imbedded... Far distant stands of deep souled firs rise in solidly anchored silence, in resolute contrast against heavens of fine grained oak, their rich, vibrantly rumbling hue in jagged edged silhouette, stands imposingly regardless of the season, vigilant in their determination to protect should hope be jeopardized, and dream threatened... Softer hardwood greens gentle the forbidding presence of the firs, their softly rounded silhouettes flow in a mature dance of pleasure, a delightfully infatuating swoon, knowing that they have a part in dream's reality... Closer still, spring fresh meadows gently roll and tumble in pleased awareness, wind caressed pastures of unconquered, unyielding flora smile from deep within and murmur their delight, while closer still, freshly sewn fields of unwillingly domesticated grains, their natural yearnings restrained by man's self-worshipping pre-eminence, their hearts subdued by decades of un-natural selection, their future imperiled by greed, convenience and frivolity, these tremble with explosive comprehension, for the dream they now give substance to speaks of purpose, of Truth and Wisdom, of Beauty, of whispered gentleness, empathy and kindness, giggles joy and softly hums her lullaby of contentment, barely contains anger's fire in the face of injustice and abuse, smiles an intoxicating, heart encompassing, mind numbing burst of warmth, desire and acceptance, sings both the harmony and melody of Love and Freedom. The meadows and fields revere the privilege of contributing their portion to dream's veracity. And then, the closest of all, in the bright lights of the foreground the tulips and irises squeal like giddy teenagers, incomprehensibly expressing their incomprehension, petals reaching for the newly discovered sphere of fire, light and energy, they sob and giggle and laugh and cry, deliriously declaring their thrill and exuberance, a simple happiness that they, too, are a part of, dream. At long last, meandering her unhurried way through the heart of this landscape, thoroughly contented, her spirit swirling in soothing rhythm with the country-side, kindly weaving a delicate trace amongst the deep souled firs, on to the dancing beeches and maples and oaks, in and about the spring fresh meadows and trembling fields of grain, and then amidst the simple, happy flowers, this Ribbon of Blue gently flows... so gently she flows... Unfortunately, 2-dimensional art as an expression of heart, soul and spirit is so rarely understood. 2-dimensional expression often times screams with the tortured soul of the painfully restrained, but, the observer in breathless awe responds to all this agony with, "It's beautiful." Never-the-less, Above my door... About my door... Surrounding the door... Enveloping the door to my innermost yearnings, there breathes a living landscape of hope, a simply constructed paper countryside, a pulpwood world in which dream is imbedded... April 2, 2005 rko [comments] => 1 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 21 [informant] => enigma [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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