Blankness does not frighten her.
Complexity just an amusing toy,
abandoned long ago
Her palsied hand is steadier
than the giddy universe
whose constellations are here distilled
in the meeting of mineral, wood and water.
Blue-clouded eyes look inwards, yet
breath flows like light
through infinities of space
The slowest of brushstrokes
caresses the receptive page,
and galaxies are consummated
in a gentle sigh of ink.
For poefusion‘s Tuesday title prompt – to write a poem with the title “Sage and brushstrokes”.
The picture above is actually a photo,But to me it looked like a zen brush painting – and a perfect companion for this poem!