Thursday, April 18, 2013

Poetry & Painting 3

 
 Copyright May 2013 by Cindy Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the artist.
 
 
THE MOONS OF CYGNUS

Painted shelf panel. Donated for the Second Annual Art for Aids Auction, sponsored by the Gay Straight Alliance of Lansing Community College.
 
 
OF EARTH AND SEA
 
Symmetry of earth and sea,
come to weave a dream in me,
diatomic thoughts instilled,
tides of jade, sapphire, beryl.
 
Let your winds and sands impart,
the poetry that steers my heart.
Capture for me the rays of light
that lend their balm to heal my sight…
 
I know not what journey such tides hail,
what dreams succeed, or which will fail.
I only live compelled to be
the helm of my own destiny.
                                       

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Poetry & Painting 2


 


Copyright April 2013 by Cindy Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the artist.

 

 
STAR OF COVERING
 
 
 
 
 

 CIRCLE OF LIGHT
 

 
 
 
FORTRESS
 
 
A world caves in.
And no one has the time of day.
Shadows on the run.
Look. Feel. Listen.
Scratch beneath the surface
and catch them if you can.
Reaching, we falter through outlets
and other routes of escape. Everyone
hides
in some way. Lives losing touch, losing
ground beneath blind marble
headstones.
Dark fields. Dark voices.
Dark wanderings in dark dreams.
Feeling more unsafe on the inside
than out. Buried deep, but reaching.
How to stay strong. Can’t stop crying.
Reaching…but don’t know where I am.
Panic in the deaf dark heavens -- save me
from myself – please show me
what is real.
Hide-away…hide-away me
in dark spaces. Look. Search. Feel.
Leaving no stone unturned because it matters
that you’re there. Trust.
Reaching. You reach back. Finding hearts
in safe places. No one alone, in whatever struggle.
So much released, much more restored,
in the fortress of this circle.
 
October 2011

 
  
NORTH STAR
 
  
It has a name, I know it not.
But it cut me in half
and hollowed me out, as
nonchalantly as an avocado,
leaving nothing but a paper
thin
shell, hanging from a tree
in a forest too absent of light
to see even the stars. It is
a matter of sanity, this
living
in the city. A distraction. But
the sun only rises in the windows
of the west. And I miss the stars.
Yet will I look
to You, my north star, Yeshua,
my radiance, that I not be overcome
by the darkness inside. Hide me,
oh, my brightness, hide me, from
the night of this world.
 
 
COPYRIGHT 4-13-2013 BY CINDY PARKER




ICE TREES IN NIGHT SUN
 
 

  



WORMWOOD


 
I don't even know you
and still I cry
even to this day.
The pain in your eyes
angers me. Shames
me. Haunts me. Silence
too is a crime. The speck,
the mote, the humble
grain of sand
we grind to powder. Hate
becomes the millstone
we hang around our necks
and drown ourselves
with. What fools
we are.