Muse how
it all began
Head
high: I was in awe of gold frames that adorn the spectrum of colors, glassy and
bright beneath the angel's feet above my head.
Encircled rings touch the hanging arms of short babies too high for me
to reach. But they do not care that I am
there. Ocean blue skies curve in
patterns that weave in green and yellow hues.
Head
steady: The painting of half a pope, his body fading off as he drips down an
invisible chair. A striped shirt man
fumbles his earpiece frantically finding familiar faces. Red tapestries blocked by heads, cameras, and
outstretched hands. A sculpture in the
corner, serene and calm. Hands son her
heart, armored by her white robe she sees me seeing her.
Head low:
Mosaic floor of moons and crescents. A
blue warrior tangled in vines as a cracked feet in sandals steps on his chest.
Can such
rage inflame the immortal's hearts?
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