With a failure of imagination, I say
“Illustrate a book.”

Full up with understanding
that if I went dancing into mystified air
with my portal, your painting,
it would be tragedy to
invite everybody there.

“your imprint detached itself from the great cloud, giving up

forgetfulness and unknowing, taking up memory and knowledge,

wearing once again the clown suit, cheering me from my great longing,

pushing me back from the edge of the hollowed out place

where the tangled mess of old toys, broken screen doors,

rusted refrigerators and old tricycles waited.”

We try to slot you into familiar context-
market our wonder
reproduce what resonates
in the tired, pillaged heart.

I’m better for you staying
out of the open meadow;
close by the twisting forest,
obscured by dark.

For I can only see
the vibrant star of morning
under the purple shadow
of twilit skies.

Bewildered memories fill up
my mind before these visions:
That such elusive wonders could meet
ordinary eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*art work and linked words are by artist Rick Mobbs of Mine Enemy Grows Older. This is a tribute to the artist