Thursday, July 12, 2012

Poem- Prism


Prism



Light
pushes through
the thin veneer of pigment, granules, some
pulverized dirt
drifting on the river, it hits the canvas,
and returns to us
through the prism of the painting.  And so it is
that when we look upon it, we do so
not from above,
like God upon a river,
but like a fish
from inside.

1 comment:

  1. "I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river / Is a strong brown god" ... so Eliot, shifting slyly from polytheism to monotheism, in primitive stirrings, re-presents the river ... riverrun ... here, the prism of painting illuminates, for now, seen through a glass darkly, but then, face to face ...

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