Art informs truth; illuminating the “dark field” which lays beyond the physical and metaphysical.

 

Sand is perfect; water temp … perfect; sun beats perfectly; neither hungry or thirsty.

Just perfect.

 

She cries for your daughter,

Your son,

Your mother,

Your father,

Your friends and their loved ones.

 

She has seen the sorrow,

Felt the pain,

Experienced the helplessness,

And endures it all because of His love.

 

Our Lady of Sorrows,

Pray for us on this sad day for so many.

 

Beckoning, she sits,

Smiling with her huge muscular trunks, reaching out,

Calling you to come and rest from the scorching mid-day sun.

“I am here, you are welcome”

 

She calls from the motionless leaves,

Exposing her back, arched in a morning stretch,

As this lover glances towards the beloved,

Still asleep in the bed.

 

“Come and rest in me, and I will give you peace.”

The silent eruption.

 

“Come rest” the leaves refrain, as the pilgrims stop.

And hear the almost silence call

… of inner peace.