Prodigy

Prodigy

7 x 9 x 16″

Perspective lines

Toward vanishing points arched

Causing a swell in that symphony hall

Where I saw a rose

Then roses exploding, the hall a great vase

The child at its hub had blown the roof off

As we stared, things fell or flew of exalted

Angels, theologians say

Do not learn incrementally

What we would call disciplines

Angels might call epiphanies

Did the child know, in that way, the beauty

She poured out to the air it filled

A bow and strings most folks use for probing

In hope something slowly will open a bit

A few notes only here and there

A video of this piece is available upon request at jimmalecky@gmail.com