Yours are the paintings that speak to me <br />In a way that cannot be spoken <br />They fill both my heart and breast. <br />They cause my mind eternal unrest. <br />I see them in my dreams. <br /> <br />My heart beats faster <br />In the presence of their rhythms. <br />They dance to the music of another lover. <br />Or that lover could be me. <br />I feel your passion as my truth. <br /> <br />The broader the strokes the more I feel <br />The lesser your details must be given. <br />Every color executed with a reason. <br />I know the fervor that you’ve shown. <br />The metrics of your vision. <br /> <br />The finer grains of your textured points <br />Like stars thrown cross the heavens. <br />Are they the products of a celestial force? <br />Did God choose to show himself through you? <br /> <br />Or just serendipity as many would believe? <br />Some accidental truths <br />Nothing special, nothing to be gained. <br />Nothing to be learned from you. <br /> <br />I see them as an orchestration of the divine <br />Conducted from above <br />Yours are the paintings that speak to me Jackson <br />Yours are the paintings I love. <br /> <br />(November 30,2010 Wausau, Wisconsin USA) <br /> <br />(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved<br /><br />Christine A Kysely<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-jackson-pollock/
