Sunday, 26 April 2015

Poem for Sunday: Patterns in Nature

 by Phoebe Warren

Knowledge grows upon each fold
Crafting its path through cuts and scolds
Lines ebbing away 
The naked shame
Of the once flawless creations

The blank sheet is scratched and scarred 
Ink trickles down the coloured chard 
A needle indents
The artist commences
To create meaning for the piece 

The creasing of the once taunt skin 
As each fold nestles into the chin 
Buries deeper into 
Its skeleton frame 
Crevices; peaks form this landscape

A human maps the rigid wake 
Left by the rocks stacked by the lake  
Circles and lines 
Match their height 
Paving an explorer's delight 

Alas, see - the nobel tree bark
Its subtle patterns make her mark 
Years of wisdom
Trapped in her trunk:
We yearn for her enlightenment 

And so we find the piece complete 
Space where desolate finds defeat 
Comprehension marks  
Contour, skin and barks
With lines in which the truth secretes 


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