Ritagail's posterous

links to albums of artwork

link to public album of the mural (God and) I am/are painting at Mary Martha Outreach:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1775917094752.53122.1744106395&type=1&l=0d312e4732

link to public album of my bulletin covers this holiday season (will be adding sketches and future bulletin covers):

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1778544000423.53187.1744106395&type=1&l=433e729a7d

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A dear friend gave me a print copy of "Lost Horizon" for an early Christmas gift this year. On Christmas Eve, after Mass, in the quiet of the night, imagery and the following story began forming in my head. I didn't want to get up out of bed, and the only paper available to scribble on was the inside the covers of my copy of Lost Horizon, that's where my grandchildren, or perhaps great-grandchildren will find my original handwritten poem, complete with "cross-outs" and scribbles. I hope it makes them smile many years from now.

Heaven's Geometry

Patiently--
Perhaps not
Too
Patiently--
Standing in line
Awaiting my turn to give to the Divine
Yet human King, His birthday gifts;
The line ahead of me
Wended a long way to the Throne,
And I strained my eyes to see
Just how far along
It would be before my turn would come.

The group was mostly lively,
Tho some appeared glum,
But they cheered when debates
Were suggested about many current affairs.
And, when the first debate
Over some regulatory moral difficulty
Reached a feverish tone,
I started singing, practicing my version
Of the Happy Birthday song.
I'd just sung "Happy Birthday Dear
King Messiah Emmanuel Prince of Peace Je-sus",
When the whole debating group
AGREED
On one thing--For me to
Run Along.
And so,
I ended up twice as far
In line,
From where I had begun.

Then some of those fine souls,
Standing finer than I in the line,
Began discussing the
Proper Usage
Of Words and their Meaning
And the finer points of Theology,
Liturgy, Philosophy, and Ideology,
And how it ALL relates--
Or doesn't--
As one was expounded
Superior
To another,
A War of Words and Proper Thinking
Broke out--BUT--
They All Agreed Together
When I began painting--
Quietly painting mind you--
They All Agreed Together that my
Quiet painting of colors shapes and forms
Was Quite Out of Keeping
With their Proper Usage of Wording Norms--
And they threw me
Out
Of their Philosophically, Liturgically, Theologically, Ideologically
Correct
Presence.
So, I, only half-finished painting
In hand,
Was thrown further up the line,
And I was four times
Ahead
Of where I began.

Here I met another soul
A bit more like me,
He was folding paper,
Brightly colored paper,
Cheerily making animals
With his skill in origami.
"I'm making as many of these as I can
Before I get to the Throne
To give to the King,"
He gave a shy smile.
I asked,
"Have you been in line a long while?"
"Well," he replied, "yes and no.
You see, those before me..."
"Ah yes," I said, "Our 'I'm bringing my
Greatest Argument'
Friends"...
He chuckled.
And, while we two folded
And painted and contentedly hummed
Various versions of
The Birthday Song,
The line wended closer to the
Shining Throne.

"I'd better practice once more
My little tune,"
I said, pulling out my Xaphoon.
And, as I played the little reed instrument
(A bit like a recorder with more volume),
The Trained Musicians
Just ahead of us
Began to squabble:
It seems some wanted Brahms,
Some Bach, some Chopin,
While others wanted non-Classical--
There were even dischords among those
Advocating for a set of Jazz.
BUT--
The all AGREED that my little
Phooning composition was merely
Noise--
A disgraceful blot on Jazz, Bach, Brahms, AND Chopin!
So, they threw me, and my origami friend,
Out
Of range of their Sensitive Presence,
And I found myself eight times
Ahead
From where I began.

Which was,
As it so happened,
Right in front of the Throne,
And I gasped at the Sight
Of the Birthday King,
Nearly forgetting WHY I was there,
Nearly forgetting every care,
And, in my awed silence,
The King
Smiled, pointed, and asked,
"Can you play that thing?"
Still holding my Xaphoon with my
Half-finished painting in my pack,
I nodded, took a deep breath,
Motioned to my new friend,
And began to play.
I fumbled at the start
But soon found my notes,
Nodded to my friend,
And he set his origami menagerie
Afloat
Into the air
On the simple soap bubbles he blew,
They danced as I played
And the King caught quite a few.
Then my music ended,
And the origami dance too.
"Oh" I said, as I remembered,
"This painting is for You,
But,
I couldn't finish it
Until I saw Your face.
The King smiled and replied,
"Come, my little friend,
I will find you a place
Where you can sit and paint and
Practice your music to your heart's content,
And, our origami friend here shall have
ALL
The paper he needs
To fold anything--big or small."

"Sire," I whispered and haltingly asked,
Turning slightly 'round,
"What about Them...will they ever come?"
The King sighed,
And, smiling wistfully replied,
"Eventually, they'll arrive,
I've been waiting for them
To Simply Seek Me,
But, they must do so
In their own time."
"Ah!" whispered my origami friend--
Thus The Line!"
"Yes," whispered back the King,
"Thus The Line".

(Ritagail Burleson Christmas Eve 2011)

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