The Painters

There is a portrait in the sky.

The sun adorned the mountain across from me,

But did not touch my own.

I saw its golden light-

     vaguely-

Through a sea of grey and broken trees.

But the view was not less beautiful to me.

I saw before me my whole being,

Reflected in the grandeur of the earth.

     My warmth and coolness.

          My light and darkness.

               My wholeness and brokenness.

These traits, which I saw as flaws in myself,

Were not so ugly in nature.

I saw them not as imperfections but as quirks.

A small tear gives a book character.

The gods greeted me at breakfast.

They said, “We hope the morning finds you well.

We have painted you a portrait

     in the sky.

Did you see on it our signatures?”

I said, “Your painting took me quite aback,

And I stared at it breathlessly for a while,

But I do not get the meaning.”

They chuckled and said, “Look within.

You may see the scene

     reflected there.

Beauty, both sad and joyful.

Do you judge the trees for dying?”

“Of course not,” I scoffed with haste.

“For nature is your handiwork.

You make things whole, but fractures, too,

Complete the perfect tapestry.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

“Your words are as kind as true.

But remember…

                          …we made you, too.

Do you judge yourself for breaking?”

The answer was implicit,

And the gods left me alone.

The sun filled the whole sky then,

So its golden points were gone.

All that was lit was cold,

And the forest of dead trees

     taunted me.

The sounds of industry abounded to my right,

And I shivered.

Still, I remembered the painting,

And the lesson that came with it.

I stood, empowered to face the world

That so reflected me.

Reviews

[Miss Sharon]

Beautiful from start to finish! (nature is your handiwork. You make things whole, but fractures, too, Complete the perfect tapestry.”) Ah yes...the good and bad, the beautiful and the homely, the night and the darkness...they all form their own type of perfection. ~Sharon

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the gods painted us a masterpiece...beauty in nature, in the sky, a theater of precision...
of life.
and we are marring the painting...with greed, with war, with hate.
Lessons are there, but we are not learning them.
the conversational nature of this really enhances its effect.
j.