The Secret of the Girl in the Tree

Painting by Graham Gercken

You speak to me so soft

Whispering we share one soft heart,

The reason we need God,

The reason we were chosen to believe

I mold the incense into a cube

You bow your head and our eyes meet

Resin on my fingertips

We resign to our parallel fates

You never touch my sticky hand

I only want to kiss your lips once

But the candle melts away

And you flick wax flakes onto the ground

‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight.’

A sudden cold

But that moment needed to freeze

Oh painter of the ferns!

We resolve to our lone dreams:

The scape of our painted kiss.

 

©2011, Amaya Engleking

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4 comments

  1. cindy knoke · January 7

    Love this!

  2. Rob · January 7

    I always read the tags if that persons blog shows yhem, so of course I read yours. Am I understanding this piece as it relates to the subject at hand? You have captured an awkward moment with precision and tremendous perspective. But the subject of this adoration…that is the question

    • Gospel Isosceles · January 9

      In meditation I created a character, the painter of the ferns, who was meant to be a guide to the protagonist of my story. Five months later I met this character, this artist, in real life. We became friends and roommates, and we’d talk about the cosmic Christ and were aligned spiritually. He had a large unfinished painting in the main room of a girl sitting in a tree and would occasionally ask me what it was about. So he was a brother in God, meant to be a guide to the main character (now me in this metafictional turn) but nothing more, as God was in the process of working in the heart of my future husband.

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