The History of Art
And what of time, the river flow, the mind’s architecture that builds to sow.
Among the ripples of stone and light, channels give birth to wondrous sight.
A ventured guest in a world that’s plural, painting and chipping away to a spirit’s mural.
Among the passages of word and grain, is a texture that only dreams can gain.
To set sail in an inner world, the contemplation of mountains rising when a heart is unfurled.
And steadfast I stay where my thoughts can be free, to find the comfort of monuments inside of me.
Polished rocks staring at a newborn sun. Colors bleeding where spirits run.
Foundations built of stars and sand, shifting thoughts that understand.
And all alone in this sea of others, countenance feeds, like the womb of Mother.
Mosaic windows of fractured being, blindly crossing where all self is fleeting.
Destiny bound in what is ours, not minutes, not seasons, not thoughtless hours.
Echoing voices without an end, resonating where creation began.
Against the walls, an artery divine, a lightening rod of yours and mine.
Diminished in the waste of life, I wade into a sanctuary of enlightened strife.
Rock fixtures of illuminations speak, a fortress that holds the humble, the meek.
And in utter amazement I hold their hands, promises kept where God stands.
Cups quenching every heart’s desire, to love and be loved, to seek, to inspire.
To know that nothing can separate our love. Finding our way, like sacrificial doves.
And In the quarry of all our dreams, civilizations will sculpt what love has gleaned.
And I will stand with you in awe, because we ventured to answer God’s call.
Within the reach of every heart, is the history of God’s art.
Kathy Paysen 2013
Make art the reason we live ... to manifest what we must be ... eternal messengers ... God's family.