if only i knew
what the artist knows
about the great
perfection in imperfection
i would sip grace slowly
at the ragged edges of the creek
kiss the pitted
face of the moon
befriend the sea
though it can be a danger
embrace the thunder of a waterfall
as if its strains were a symphony
prostrate myself atop the rank dregs on the forest floor,
worshiping them as a breeding ground for fertile seeds
and the home of a million small lives
if i knew what the artist knows,
then i wouldn’t be afraid to die,
to leave everyone
i would be sure that some part of me
would remain present
and that one day you would join me
as the dusky branch of a river or the
bright moment of the flowering desert
if i knew what the artist knows,
i would surely respond body and soul
to the echo of eternity in rough earthy things
i would not fear decay or work undone
i would travel like the river through its rugged, irregular channels
comfortable in this life; imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete
© 2013, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved,
Photo credit ~ from Pictures section of OpenHistory via Wikipedia under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.o Unported license
JAMIE DEDES ~ My worldly tags are poet and writer. For the past five years I’ve blogged at The Poet by Day,the journey in poem, formerly titled Musing by Moonlight. Through the gift of poetry (mine and that of others), I enter sacred space.
The BeZine 