Words thoughts feelings understandings,
Where dwells the self beyond self, the self of whole me?
Smell, sound, touch, integrated comprehendings,
Can I be, can it be, so simple, so simple, to be free?
Language of mind, language of spirit true,
ease me from my tyranny blue
beg me left, beg me right
beggar me not to feeble sight,
stretch me strong, stretch me pure, stretch me into wholeness long,
find me in, find me out,
Oh, I am exposed, now to merge fragmented doubt,
Yes I will, yes I shall, this I’ll muster
sure to spread the forming cluster,
I am art, I am part, a connection beating through my heart
swirling, winding, spreading, finding,
feeding spots and tips and lines of painting’s start.
Shall I draw you as a me,
or me as two,
or maybe you as you, or thou as thee?
Feed me deep, feed me free.
You sound as bread, you smell of red,
you feel as sprinkle, you taste of wrinkle,
oh, I know not you as one,
yet I say,
for me, for thee
our soul’s magic burns burns as ever-poignant sun,
never never, never those threads of finding Core,
finish binding, shaping, finding,
our mystique of ever-aching More.
(Art by Beena Sidd)
#Poetry #Writing #Synesthesia