The painting is almost finished, and I want to share the piece I wrote that it inspired:
O Wonder of all that is
How marvelous that there is something rather than nothing.
All that is, moves, interpenetrates.
Where is there to go, but right here?
What is more important than to attend to this,
this conscious materiality within me, in front of me?
My opening to this universe, this “one turning,” is my dear body.
Dear body, though, is often literally a pain.
My opening to all that is runs through a material tired, worn.
My material: my matter, from Latin ‘mater’. Mother.
Mother of my self, my soul,
may my soul be mother of my self, my matter – – –
And it is.
It’s not that the soul is in the body.
The body is within the soul.
Any my soul moves within yours, in compassion, ‘suffering with’
just as the molecules of my exhaling
are taken into your materiality
in the next breath.
Watch! Attend to this!
How much of my materiality has taken in the pain around me?
And I take myself within the arms that have taken in so many, so much.
What do I ache for?
For this, for all of this.
I want to know in every moment of consciousness
how inseparable my materiality is with whoever “me” is.
And know that I contain multititudes,
And magnitudes, of love.
Much warmth to you,