In order to view this poem with the line breaks the author intended, we suggest reading it on a computer screen or in the landscape orientation on your phone or tablet.

A Moment of Art

An old friend arranged for me
to stand alone, just inches back
from the insane artist’s canvas,
the one with the pinwheels of stars
and disks of galaxies in a molten sky,
wheels within wheels, like Ezekiel’s
vision of celestial beings, each
opening a thousand unblinking eyes
that each gave me a hard stare.
I stood stock-still, as if on trial,
facing a profound, if silent judgment.
Nearby, a flowing cypress, its crown
clipped off by the gilt frame,
and complete only in the mind’s eye.
The runnel of oozing, green paint
raised the interlocking branches.
What would a madman know of hope?
And what would he hope at last?
If that mental weight were suddenly lifted,
would the artist’s singular vision flatten?
And is it in painting nature that hope
infuses the only language for it we have,
the blessed assurance that something makes sense?
Hope is a mountain of numberless forgivenesses,
repeating acts that rework memories for the good.
It is the conviction that love is what we are,
not just what we do, even if we are never loved.
And never discover that one who will love us.
But in that small space, an open gallery
with crowds waiting at the door to enter,
I held my breath in that starry expanse,
and like an old cypress, bowed down.

—
Royal Rhodes, poet and essayist, is a retired educator who lives in a small village. He began sending out poems to journals in his mid-70s. His work has been published in numerous literary journals: Abandoned Mine, Ekstasis Magazine, Amethyst Review, Ekphrastic Challenge, The Montreal Review, and elsewhere.

Know anyone who might appreciate reading Royal’s poem?
Why not share the link to this page?

Have you read these poems:
Sixty-Six by Jody Reis Johnson
Just Sold! by Joan Bernard

Table of Contents