I sit next to my daughter’s artwork, white
canvas hosting shaded loam, clear ocean:
rectangles of bright blue flowing with slight
ferns, splashed with patches of tanbark terrain,
and above this paradigm that’s most us
smooth tinted texture—semblance of soft fur
you want to stroke with cautious fingertips,
or cave painting embedded with tincture
water-blue, like aqua protozoa
magnified, breathing at ease on moist beach—
bordered continuum of land and sea
inviting imagination to reach
skyward: the first eagle viewing slow birth
of deep-sea islands, rippling lakes of earth.
Roger Armbrust
December 17, 2007
