There will never be that stillness
Within the pulse of flesh,
in the dust of being, where we trudge,
turning our hungry gaze this way and that,
the wings of the morning
brush through our blood
as cloud-shadows brush the land.
What we desire travels with us
We must breathe time as fishes breathe water
God's flight circles us.
---Denise Levertov.
Released through bars of sorrow
as if not a gate had opened but I
grown intangible had passed through shadows,
from dark of yearning into
a soft day, western March.
Nothing can capture that dark light. Stunned and bedazzled by the black sun. I never knew that Rothko's paintings were so beautiful.
Your Misfortune (None of My Own) - Thomas Newman
1 comment:
I forget: have you read this?
http://picsandpoems.blogspot.com/
I think it is the same exhibition, isn't it?
and if you search for rothko on his blog, you will find more interesting posts, he is quite into rothko.
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