Angelus Novus
My eyes
Inseparably focused
On the plain, colorless canvas
And yet
Still ideating
A bright, elucidating palette,
The golden curls
Falling over the strong, pensive face
Shown glancing
At something unseen,
“Oh,” I wonder,
“What might it be that fixates you so?”
Do you heed caution?
Perhaps an undisclosed epiphany?
Or is it fear
Which makes your broad jaw drop?
The great, big arms
Spread wide open
Like a pair of ivory wings
To either assist
In advancing
Or eluding,
Have you shared this secret
With another?
Else, it is your intention
To keep silent
And allow time
To take its turbulent course.
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