His Art

No fretting over gesso ground
nor trapping bound in bronze
No fire, nor glaze, nor framing
nor flourish of a signing

Bolting from a dash of fame
Sooner withering or wearing
rather falling in the chase
than facing pedestal taming

Rain rings on a river tide
no longer than a note sings
Volition lingers in memory
Spry wings in sky glory

Transience in exhibition
most to most invisible
all indivisible at Heart
As the Artist, so His Art
 

Sumangali Morhall
March 2005