More and more
These days
I stretch my brush towards
Colors
That have no name
Craving the pulse of burnt umber
Into alizarin crimson,
Into sap green,
The nameless tint welling up
At the margin
between
That and this.
The old magic-woman
in a Russian folktale commands,
“Go I know not whither,
to fetch I know not what.”
It's a fool’s errand, like
Capturing a moment
with a paintbrush and
a swash of pigment--
you’ll never get there
Without a magical helper.
Nevertheless, you embark.
In just this way, my faith stretches out its brush
Tip trembling
Towards the nameless presence,
Straining to dip into
The heart
Of mystery
And feel it bloom.
About the Creator
Ruth Halpern
Ruth Halpern is a painter, writer, and spoken word performer.
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