By Robin Rhyner
I do not know how the world works for you
When you paint it on canvas
When you transform the view
I do not know how you see what you see
When you capture the light
When you set our minds free
I do not have the key to your heart
To just understand the way you make art
I know you once told me how words on a page
For you don’t stay flat
They prance on the stage
The letters can float and turn round in space
The alphabet teased you
Put tears on your face
I do not know just how it must be
To not understand to learn how to read
But to understand color and vision and space
To have perfect pitch
To hear music of place
And now I don’t know
Of the change in your mind
Did your whole world explode?
What’s left behind?
I do not know how that moment felt
When all you know began to melt
I do not know how long will it take
And who will you be
When you finally wake
I do not know just how you feel
Are you scared?
Are you sad?
Does it seem unreal?
Do you know who I am when you smile at me?
Please know that I love you, whoever you’ll be.
Pingback: Winner, ‘Earth’ Challenge, and More.. | Waxings
Wow – this is really moving – to me, because it begins with an enquiring mind being curious about another’s artform, which many of us can relate to, and then unfolds so gently, and painfully shifts to their loss. Thanks for sharing. 🙂