Art as convergence

I

I see the moon

where you painted a scar,

see fire where you meant blood—

and those lines you used for texture

on an ancient hero’s face,

I see as tears.

I’ve always thought of veils

as shrouds for secrets, but the Sufi artist

sees a different way—veils

permit us partial sight. Speech

is a veil for truth. Paint

is a veil.

II

Is nothing seen

until there is a picture—

and no believers

until there is a creed?

III

We plant two trees.

Their trunks grow strong and tall

and straight—and parallel.

We know these parallel

lines will never meet.

These trees, however—

strong and tall and parallel—

reach out with branches.

JoAnne Growney 30 March 2007

Verses developed from the exhibit, “Convergences” (Feb 9 – Apr 9, 2007) Gateway’s Heliport Gallery, Silver Spring, MD

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