BALLAD TO THE MOON

 

oil on panel,  22in. x 18in.  ±55.9cm. x 45.7cm.

 

 

 

ARTIST'S WRITING

 

 

CLOSER DETAILS

 

BALLAD TO THE MOON

 

 

Our ribs are strained by rivals.  Revolutions;

      to each their farthest end

And in this deathly fight, always right, is one’s friend

And a foe, ever wrong, ever ill with no amends

 

There finds no center ground in these swayed disputes

No uniting unlike thoughts and no treaties to relent

Such trends, thus taught, dictates our fate’s descent

 

Where lives the balanced voice between the kings and queens?

The one I wish to hear, less rage and warring rings?

That sings, that hums, that whispers all our dreams?

 

This white deer, that lurks here, a ghost we all agree

A sense, so sought, less fear from fear we heed

A wish we wish to hear, of binding mortal need

A wish we wish to hear, through normal human creed

 

We harbor hope for grace from a soul less prone to flee

From a voice, lost at sea, that idles our decree

A voice, lost at sea

That brings us back as one, in this, our loving plea