*

With a singleness of purpose, and a soulness of intent

I have brought my attitudes and ineptitude to a visual conclusion

tallying all of natures multiplicity to a single focal point.

I have ridden the wave of the skeptical between doubt and dissolution.

I have searched love's countenance for her secrets hidden within

looking for God and finding God his whole nature wrapped in fine paper.

I have been a wanderer through the heavens

time and time again I test my brush

kissing, scratching, scouring,

an image onto a silvery surface.

*

Point on point two lines are drawn.

One on the outside one on the in.

A meeting of measure with the soft texture of the rose.

Is there nothing hidden from my eye?

No shame to great that it cannot be changed into a bouquet of sexual flowers?

What a questioning occupation this is

all things exposed to the singular light of color on canvas.

Light and the dark, void and the mass,

things drawn, discovered, and then surpassed.

Again I test my hand while my mind questions this aspect

or that.

Knowing the answers where they lie.

*