Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

these glass vessels that you see,
no longer appertain to me,
no longer feigning to make part
what was the mainstay of my art,

my skills no more appreciated,
as if I were some rusticated
old fool, living like a recluse,
who’s mind has become “ loose “.

people do not comprehend
the powers which I can bend,
conferred to Man by nature,
developed patiently through nurture.

earth, fire, wind and water,
are the elements where I wander,
they’re the mirror of the soul,
through which Man is made whole;

mortar, pestle, alembics my tools,
books of ancient wisdom my rules,
herbs, spices, base and precious metals,
potions, magic formulas and crystals;

not mere science with which I deal,
but the science of Man; one must feel!
now alas, this is not fashionable,
everything has to be “ rational “.

yes, M.Lavoisier your visit is auspicious,
take what you will, alembics, tools,
glass, books, formulas, take the lot,
for what happens now, I care not a jot.

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