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THe Canvas
The artist sees a vision of a fiery scarlet skyReds, oranges and blues mingled, burning in his eyesIn the mind he sees it but can his hands wroughtThe picture on the canvas that from the cupboard sought
The canvas on the easel the palette in the hand,"What type of paint will bring the effect that I demand"The vibrancy of oils or the acrylics so versatileOr the softness of water colour- made him wonder for a while
Tubes were squeezed, five colours to startBut would that do justice to the passion of his heartHe spread the paint so vivid, alone and mingled togetherStanding back and viewing what seemed to take forever
The painting was finished yet he still shook his head"This portrays one aspect- not the whole vision I dread"So to the storage place he trod the path againTo fetch another canvas to ease that inner pain
On and on he brushed, frame after frame he filledUntil the floor was covered and his hand was stillHe looked at the mess around him, the piles on every handOn the wall he began to mount them, on the chair he did stand
Row after row he hung them, touching together, no room apartFinished he stood back, and what he saw made him startThey were no longer separate paintings, from the ceiling to the floorFor they showed a life-sized image of himself- formed in the vision that he saw.
4 May 2008
Notes:
This poem could be about how God sees us as individuals and in relation to everyone God has called through history -as (Heb 11:40) says:.., that they without us should not be made perfect.
Or it could be about the body of Christ as Paul says...1Co 12:20 But now are they many members, yet but one body.... How with a member missing the body is incomplete.
Or it could be about how we understand the bible. If we nit pick words, phrases, sentences, verses, chapters, books - we lose the picture of Christ, which is seen when we stand back far enough to see what picture, with its individual imperfect brush strokes, is made.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14© Stephen Share 2006
The canvas on the easel the palette in the hand,"What type of paint will bring the effect that I demand"The vibrancy of oils or the acrylics so versatileOr the softness of water colour- made him wonder for a while
Tubes were squeezed, five colours to startBut would that do justice to the passion of his heartHe spread the paint so vivid, alone and mingled togetherStanding back and viewing what seemed to take forever
The painting was finished yet he still shook his head"This portrays one aspect- not the whole vision I dread"So to the storage place he trod the path againTo fetch another canvas to ease that inner pain
On and on he brushed, frame after frame he filledUntil the floor was covered and his hand was stillHe looked at the mess around him, the piles on every handOn the wall he began to mount them, on the chair he did stand
Row after row he hung them, touching together, no room apartFinished he stood back, and what he saw made him startThey were no longer separate paintings, from the ceiling to the floorFor they showed a life-sized image of himself- formed in the vision that he saw.
4 May 2008
Notes:
This poem could be about how God sees us as individuals and in relation to everyone God has called through history -as (Heb 11:40) says:.., that they without us should not be made perfect.
Or it could be about the body of Christ as Paul says...1Co 12:20 But now are they many members, yet but one body.... How with a member missing the body is incomplete.
Or it could be about how we understand the bible. If we nit pick words, phrases, sentences, verses, chapters, books - we lose the picture of Christ, which is seen when we stand back far enough to see what picture, with its individual imperfect brush strokes, is made.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14© Stephen Share 2006