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.