About The Blog

Arthor Journer is my pen name.
"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.
In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Her Gift

When I talk to her she echoes dreams of the possible not fear
She whispers to my world erasing the shadows of doubt
Her encouragement touches my heart through my ears
And changes the shapes of my illusions and thoughts
When my mirror tells me that I can’t succeed
She breaks the reflection and lets me know that I can
She waltzes through my grounds planting seeds
Inspiring chasing horizons and catching rainbow’s hands
When my flesh tells me just to give up and let it die
She holds me tight and stares into my soul
She finds the potion to give me the wings to fly
And convinces me that any lack will become whole
When my will is broken and there are knives in my back
She sutures up the wounds and gently kisses my mind
She makes my emotional bank account go from red to black
And allows me love, joy and peace to find
When pity becomes my morning and evening meal
She cooks a delicacy that fills my souls hunger
She presses and prays until it vanquishes all ill
And my walls are torn demolished asunder
When I feel lost and unloved and alone
She kisses my spirit and shines her smile so bright
She holds my hands and tells me I am home
Tells me she loves me and my world is made right

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

First, like most of your artworks, but to be honest, dont like the hues of this one, perhaps it's because I dont understand it? Sorry

Second, love this poem very much: it successfully and exactly depicts a source of warmth, encouragement, confidence, and power—that is love. Yes, true love is the source of all good things. True love makes hurt and fear no root to grow on.

Hope everyone in the world can be such source and have such source.