PROMISED LAND oil on panel 20in. x 16in. ±50.8cm. x 40.6cm. ARTIST'S WRITING CLOSER DETAILS
PROMISED LAND How strange it is to meet your wish To shake the hand of all your needs—the seemly peak of all your dreams How strange it is to watch you cry To see the tear and drear and dire lie Inside your eye The loss and lack, the subtle crack within your voice How strange it is To witness grief in boundless choice Like birds we fly, like fish we swim Life is more than one straight limb You with your cold shaken hand, has taught me fact from which I stand The air, like fear, holds us bound by nothing true Be rich, Be poor Be a man made of so much more Be braving, Be craving Be hungry now and evermore How strange it is To be of age To chance upon this buried page To hold the key that twists and clicks my complex cage How strange it is to understand The true and told and timely sand Of this, my so called promised land