Saturday, June 30, 2012

Helene: Pilibosian: NO BOUNDARIES

I set Armenian miniatures
on a table before me,
their colors not muted by years,
their shapes worshipping centuries.

Their kneeling figures
spoke to my fears,
words they might have uttered
not always teaching by treading lightly.

The application of haloes
was faded in scope
but not in hues transfigured
by their original approach.

Reds and blues dominated
and conformed to the brush
as dark gold of haloes
drew the symbol of circles.

Their women, few, crossed my paths
as if some ancient memory
redrew them here
or took my consciousness back

to where I was searching
for their daily walk,
perhaps searching then and still
for a mother-figure.

Boundaries were blank
to this celebration,
this silent conversation
I had with the art of saints.

This poem has previously appeared in  Bibliophilus

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