Organic Pace

2024, acrylic on hemp linen; 43 x 48 inches

Bioluminescence

Maybe because the child is alone —
forgotten, but has everything she needs:

rainbow array of waxed tissue
thick white cardboard, string
a brush and blue starch

or maybe because her choices come easily
from eye to hand, not really choices
but rather like leaves budding green
on a bare branch the first day of spring
becoming one thing whole
like the colored panes of a stained glass window.

Maybe because that comparison moves across her mind
just as the mind disappears from thinking
or because something outside her creation:

a noise downstairs
a key turning the lock
a name called and recalled

momentarily awakens her to
the day having long since traveled across walls
and though she lays bellied on the floor in darkness
still she can see her picture. Time is altered;
a moment holds hours, and hours, a moment
because she is escaping the linear belief,
because no time/is not passing
and “I” has left her mind
hand in hand with alone, she learns
how to make light from within.