Tiel Aisha Ansari
Lot's Wife
Look how she stands, a statue poised midturn
with crystallizing horror on her features
and hands half-raised. She saw her city burn
and vainly tried to shield her sight. The preachers
claim curiosity's the fatal fault
that made her stop, that made her look behind
and turned her to a statue made of salt.
But exile can be terribly unkind;
some flowers die, uprooted from the loam
in which they grew. She would not leave her home.
She weeps salt tears with every drop of rain;
her hands are blurred and softened by the water,
but peace will come in time to Sodom's daughter,
a statue formed of slow-dissolving pain.
Cirrus Ribbons
Gold cirrus ribbons edge the sky at
dawn,
the moon has set, the stars have fled
and gone,
the mountain's dog-toothed
silhouette stands
bleak
above the eastern hills. It's been
so long
since I could see that lonesome Cascade
peak
where snow lies thick and frozen on
your cheek
when you are lost in swirling, killing
cloud--
replaced today by harmless cirrus
streaks.
Today the mountain lays aside her
shroud
and would-be mountaineers and city
crowd
are dazzled by the sun-struck
glacier's glare.
A mistress beautiful, but harsh and
proud,
though still it lifts my heart to see
her there
with golden ribbons woven through her
hair.
|
|
 |
|
|
| Jane Sutherland: I choose subjects that I cherish, or that spring from deep rooted feelings, or that come to me intuitively--dogs, roses, cranes, an iconic work of sculpture; and I concentrate on the details and slightest disparities in color, tone and textures in order to show how extraordinary are things we think we know and take for granted. The process of painting for me is connected to the physical properties of the subject as well as to its meanings, associations, and memories. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
