ART by Joan Tarbell Plato
New Poetry:
New Poetry:
Beyond the Boulders
The massive rough-hewn, brown-black rocks
Carved with weathered scars
Ancient indents and scratches
From intermittent storms and glaciers
Chiseling dark cave closets between the bedrock.
These stones standing tall,
Maintain a border, a private protection
A safety net, from worldly endeavors
Like our own harbored lives.
May we …
Begin the ascent, astutely above
Climbing our protective wall
Slipping, yet catching our feet
Over and over again.
Moving to that higher realm
Chanting songs
Until we feel
The watered charged air
And swift clean breezes flowing
With the rolled synchronous tides
Viewing the massive domed
Soft white sky overhead.
God’s universe, God’s glory
Breathing it, cherishing it, activating it
Moving far beyond our boulders.
JTPlato
...
My Garden is an Orchestra
Sweet pansies with quiet sounds amidst the
Stretching tall, skinny orchid like bush
With precious jewels hanging, singing lightly
Playing allegretto in the soft wind.
The deep blooms of bright pink hydrangeas
Are touched by myriads of
Vermilion, dotted Dutch impatience, sitting low
Emanating the full brilliance of symphony violins.
As the limbs of green arborvitae stand stately tall
Playing dark bass sounds with bassoons
The perking rhythms of old hydrangea blooms
Sprout delicate flutelike diminuendo passages.
The solemn song of the grey pine reaches my ears
As the climbing clematis behind, perks up the mood
With hundreds of light violet blooms
Building crescendos, just like Chopin.
All in unison, yet individual
Playing with harmony and cross rhythms
Taking us on eagle’s wings
No words, no sounds, no coda
A solace high.
JTPlato
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