I was thinking about this poem by Mary Oliver as I painted this piece.
Moon and Water
by Mary Oliver
I wake and spend
the last hours
of darkness
with no one
but the moon
She listens
to my complaints
like the good
companion she is
and comforts me surely
with her light.
But she, like everyone,
has her own life.
So finally I understand
that she has turned away,
is no longer listening.
She wants me
to refold myself
into my own life.
And, bending close,
as we all dream doing,
she rows with her white arms
through the dark water
which she adores
3 comments:
Deborah,
The mood you evoke in your paintings take my breath away. Absolutely divine.
not only a good poem, but a good painting... i like this mixure
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