I COME TO REST mixed media edition on canvas with original hand-embellishments by the artist (limited edition size of 333 with 33 artist’s proofs)
I COME TO REST The past is bedlam, as limbs on a tree It twists and snags and holds onto me A margin of grief has scratched through my wing And gravity pulls with a much thicker string These memories are bound as a tight fitting ring And the light it reflects Brings a watery sting The pleasures it holds are the pains unto thee The past is bedlam That holds onto me The unsettled shadow that feeds the forgone Sheds darker the sorrow in the heed of dawn More grave is the ache that chops at this strand For freedom dwells in the clench of my hand By choice I live with this thorn in my side The cure I have known Yet always denied Slacken thyself; to my fingers I plea The past is bedlam That holds onto me The wind is like glass that whispers its roar It cuts through the pain that haunts my core It speaks in nine words Nine words in its roar Softly, I repeat Til I end this war Love not the past less; But the future more " Love not the past less; But the future more "