rebirth

A man in a world at the edge of an ob­se­quy
Where its peo­ple could no longer see their re­flec­tion
In the lake once sur­round­ed by botany

There is noth­ing in sight de­pict­ing per­fec­tion
Every­one around him is un­at­tached
He sought to cre­ate his own world of pro­tec­tion

Us­ing the dy­ing grasp of na­ture, the man snatched
To­geth­er pieces of bro­ken thoughts, ideas, then paint­ed
Them on his last can­vas and a new per­cep­tion hatched

Un­fold­ing be­fore his eyes, no longer taint­ed
Mold­ing from a demise he once called home
A new fas­ci­na­tion with which he be­came ac­quaint­ed

The man looked past the for­mer mu­ti­la­tion
And held in his palm a sin­gle car­na­tion
 
 

—aman­da mau­r­er

Flom­mist Aman­da Mau­r­er likes art and bugs. She is also an in­tro­vert­ed artist with a lot to say. Heavy tea drinker. Finds joy in sim­ple as­pects of life. Copy­right © 2017 Aman­da Mau­r­er. Pic­tured: Paul Cézanne, Still life with cher­ries and peach­es (cropped), cir­ca 1883–87, source.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

READ SOME  RELATED  DER TUNG  POSTS  :

re­pro­duce the re­spon­si­bil­i­ties of artists in school sort­ing go­ing for­ward deep spo­ken mlk be­yond en­cy­clopæ­dia man­nequin reign