http://www.nuryu.com/
These paintings remind me of a poem I wrote many years ago called "Dense Beasts."
Dense Beasts
I know of a place
that’s much darker,
where I can hear them
talking to each other
from the forest.
I crouch by the trees
and listen to them
jabber.
I can hear their
innocence
in the noises they make.
I can hear it
in their chirping,
in their grunting,
in their sigh
and the beasts
from the forest say,
“It’s OK.
We know what’s wrong.”
Through the trees
I see their wide button eyes
shining in the dark.
I can feel
their warm fur.
I hear them breathing
and chattering,
they don’t mean harm.
Sitting on branches,
sleeping in dirt,
the beasts say,
“It’s OK.
We know what’s going on.
We’ll stay here.”
©JEF 1983
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