Harvest the Sun

Waves of cobalt blue and emerald skies break on yellow’d plains,
Ochres and orange fields surge on to new terrain,
And a sudden quivering brushstroke makes all dance!!!

What dialogue ‘twixt the painter’s brushes and supports…
Motion, motion, all around…
Between light and matter, a struggle looms with our existence.
Let me hold you against my heart, or let me lay you before me,
Always you shall be my queen and my beloved.
All flows through you, expressions, ideas and all existence…
Sometimes you burst into meteors, nebula clouds and galaxies…
You my star, you my planet, you my love…

Dear palette, piece of timber cut in forests,
You are yourself a forest whole,
In whom I lose myself,
And in whom again I find myself.
This is the secret of your mysteries…
I choose you with passion,
I cleanse you like myself when penitent I confess
That you may stay for ever and for ever pure.

Paris, 21.11.93