View and purchase full resolution image rendered in oils here.
In the middle of a quiet afternoon, I rediscovered a love poem and some photos from our time in Arequipa Peru…
I have an image of your face. I came across it in a dream
the way you might find photos in a bureau drawer inside a haunted house…
Is it a negative? It shows the opposite of what the world could ever seem.
Nothing in the world could be so two-dimensionally luminous.
Is it a window? Endless space is etched out in the background scene.
Ice crystals melt upon the foreground glass as it reflects your warm essence.
I analyzed this solitary still… as I once studied sequences in streams
of long pi decimals, where every point is crucial and mysterious.
I believed in music waiting just outside the daily lockstep prison of my life.
These dots might be the stenciled notes a spinet box could play.
Or could this be your aura, passing through someone’s eyes of trouble and strife – prisms in reverse that cast your silhouette in dreams by night, or images by day.
Eventually the scattered tiles of metaphors turned sideways like a knife,
and cut one vibrant moment from my life… your name, your face, is what I finally could hear, see, say.
by David L. Colussi, February 14, 2003
Sprout Question: When do/will you take time to visit the treasures you are keeping shut away?
© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.
Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.
Purchase photography at http://www.redbubble.com/people/terrillwelch
Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.
From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada
Creative Potager 
No comment, Terrill. I can’t. I’m still savoring this beautiful poem and these images. Thank you for sharing them with all of us.
But I will be thinking about what’s been hidden away.
Thank you Martha for coming by and if later you would like to answer the sprout… after savoring and thinking… please feel free.
It is always a moment of great anxiety for me to decide how much of my life to “make public” for others to share. Yet, if you could physically be in my space and in my life these fragments would be available and you would collect them up in your memory and know them as me and as David. So I find it part of the vivid depth of our creativity, the parts that makes life meaningful and alive, to reach into vulnerable places and say to myself “I think I can share this now.” And then I ask David… his reply is usually “of course Darlin’ – it is your poem now.”
Terrill – The rediscovered love poem and photographs are wonderful. Simply delicious.
Sprout Question: When do/will you take time to visit the treasures you are keeping shut away?
Another question I had to sit with and ponder a bit. My treasures are not hidden — they are exposed and visited (appreciated) daily.
Thank you Laurie and thanks for answering today’s sprout question. I imagine with your practice of minimalism – this is the case.
Brilliant photo and poem combo.
The physical “treasures” are sorted through on an unscheduled basis that is usually associated with thorough clean-ups.
The non-tangible “treasures” are paddled around in my mind at night after everyone has gone to bed.
Thanks Slamdunk and brilliant sprout response – wonderful imagery. Glad you dropped in:)
Slamdunk – I particularly enjoyed your response! Thank you.
It is lovely isn’t it?
I so enjoyed this shared space and also dropping in on those who leave sprouts here. Slamdunk’s post “Swish” today is a heart warming read that I plan to go back to again – after I do some cleaning (guests for dinner tomorrow night).
I appreciate your kind words holessence and creativepotager.
My pleasure Slamdunk… and look forward to seeing you again sometime:)
Whoa! This one is both deep and hot!
The whole thing was magnificent. This sent shivers up my spine.
“Ice crystals melt upon the foreground glass as it reflects your warm essence.”
I truly love and enjoy discovering old poems. I see something new and refresh feelings, lessons, and special moments.
Wonderful new poem here!
Ben I’m thrilled that you dropped in and liked this poem. Come back anytime:)
You’ve opened my heart. I am breathing correctly once more. HUGS…
Your words make me smile Kathy… that is how I felt when I rediscovered this poem.