On the edge

To stand and judge a pile of stones .  

To consider the order of their use,and change it without picking up the first.

       

To take a wide brush,white paint unstirred,a waiting empty canvas, 

 see the brushstroke edges form windows to the hidden picture,

 then dip the brush and touch the clean can side.

       

  To visualize the shapes that hide 

in hard grown grain, 

then contemplate the difference after several digging slices. 

Turning it to see a different scene.

         A lump of clay sits on a smooth topped surface. 

The knife is held in hand as different approaches are considered.

A clear white sheet of paper

 lies beside three worn and sharpened pencils.

A dream of sitting on a pacing stallion feeling the wind and warming sun reflect from a reader's mind.

Reviews

[Barbara Kasey Smith]

Don - I've been in this mode many times while writing, you've hit it right on mark - excellent!

[Beccy]

Donald, I just came back for a re-read, (several in fact,) There is a depth to this poem, that I confess, did not at first sink in. It was my fault, I skimmed, rather than allowed the sun to warm my mind.

Artisan, artist or poet, it matters not, all create in their own unique way.


Beccy.

[Beccy]

There are times when the words simply flow like a river to the sea; always though, they are balanced by the terrible frustration of being entirely incapable of articulating one's thoughts.

the word choice here is exquisite and conveys all that every poet at one time or another feels.

Beccy.

[Terpsichore]

'Tis a fact that the act of creating can tear asunder; no better lines have been writ that say this is so.

As Ed says, as fine as they come.

T

[Donald Meikle]

thanks T for knowing the thresh hold

[Coyote Poetry]

You left the reader with many things to think about.
"A clear white sheet of paper
lies beside three worn and sharpened pencils.
A dream of sitting on a pacing stallion feeling the wind and warming sun reflect from a reader's mind." What we see and know. This is what we become and the things we touch and create are. Thank you Donald for sharing your excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Ed Hart]

Donald, this is as fine as they come

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

I love the journey of each stanza: the possibilities and promise.

One small thing of note in the last line though: "A dream of sitting on a pacing stallion feeling the wind and warming sun reflect from a reader's mind." I think this would better read "from a writer's mind" or "a poet's mind."

[Donald Meikle]

The writer tries to reach the reader's mind

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The lines prior lead one to think you're staring at the sheet of clear white paper, dreaming of sitting on a pacing stallion feeling the wind and warming sun reflect ... thus, the poet's mind.

That's the way I read it anyhow. It's your writing. As you will. :-)