Within a world where atoms part
This golden glory, rich like silks
Is accidental art
Whose numbers are not seen
Made beauty only by our minds
With insubstantial form and finds
➰
But let me share my secret truth
That nowhere is that pattern lacking
The heart of life’s delight
And say: when dulled mind looks on this
Content with art’s deflection
It finds its own reflection.
➰
Stephen Tanham is a Director of the Silent Eye, a journey through the forest of personality to the dawn of Being.
©Copyright Stephen Tanham 2021
Wonderful
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Thank you 🙏
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YES! Lovely poem full of “reflection” in more ways than one. ❤
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Thank you, Roughwighting. There was a sneaky blow at the end! But it said ‘dulled’ rather than ‘dull’. An important difference!
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As writers we know the importance of the right word!
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Astonishing, the criticality of it, Pamela.
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