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The Dance Of The Mind Inside The White

Oil on canvas, Age 9 (2004)
 25" x 25"
SOLD (Private Collection)
 Prints Available


... it seemed as if I painted these flowers in one breath
and in one brushstroke.
The oils were flowing and blending so fast,
that it appeared as if the image itself and not me that spoke
"Don't touch me anymore. Enough..."

- Akiane

The Dance Of The Mind Inside The White

Whenever the rain
scatters the scent of balloons
spring spreads
like breadcrumbs
Tasting fragile fragments
a single breath breathes
and laurels lie
between twin winners

Rolling down the hills of guessing
I grow a garden
onto myself
but the roots start growing
on me only inside a stem
A round day
becomes the eclipse
making me look like a haystack

As time climbs up a storm
we cannot hear each other
every noon
points to a finger
so it might bend the night
so the stars might stare
strangely at us
like diamond arrows

As soon as the waves
of the world shake
the rough sea
charges at me
for the long devotions
and three waves
lie down
on my forearms
Through the filtered souls
filling up the hearts
kindred prayers
are welcomed
Which world
seaches for me
while a dew gently rolls down
a cobalt blue petal?

 









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