To drowse in the gaze of an oiled palette, to sit
at the tip of a painter’s tongue (bitten
lightly between his concentrated lips)
is to offer the pinch of your hip
as a pillow for your own damp scalp:
watching the wasp inside your naval
tracing the tickle behind your knuckle
transcribing that twang around your thigh, and wishing
that your eyes would stop straining
to be met by his.
The sun drops dried grass
deep into your eardrum.
you’ll all be rustled up by that rooster.
(These are the sights
that belie the lick of any brush.)
– Naomi Byrnes
Prompted by this visual meditation on SoundCloud, “Exploring Sunshine”.
This journal page emerged over a couple of days, after a visual meditation on August Renoir’s “Madame Monet & Son”. (Available free, here on SoundCloud).
If you try the meditation yourself and enjoy it in any way, please let me know with a “like”. I’d also love to see your own creative response – you can share a link to your work by posting a comment on SoundCloud.
Thanks for checking it out and contributing to greater peace in our world through nurturing your own creativity, self-acceptance and compassionate curiousity about others.