The Elements

A canvas bare...
feelings of inadequacy
mount
To weave tapestries
of silk
intertwined with memories...

Cognitive complexities...
lights and shadows upon a matron's cheek
Endless, pointless
stairs which rise to fall
like roads that always meet.

To ornament the heavens
above our walls
and still maintain the laws of gravity
Maps of blinking orbs
casting their eternal code
Tales of twins and fish and water bearers
upon which our entire destinies are told.

And the artist mourns for these extravagencies
Their status and their brilliance
Such that only few can understand
that with every circle exists
an end
for once ideas turn and overlap
they lead us to the start again.

So at her pyramid's base
Armed with stick and dirt, she sketches
not unlike modern walls of splattered paint
Rorschach's ink blot come alive.
A masterpiece of great proportions...

No longer is her canvas bare,
but filled with strokes and shades and lines.
Basics of her trade...