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Piercing the Veil My crystal ball rests on the mantle, a reminder of endless yesterdays, hair flying past bare shoulders, beaded earrings, bartered savagely from Washington Square peddlers, clinking in time to sandals slapping over cobblestone trails. Gypsy, they called me, the men who bent to kiss the hem of my skirt, hands, neck... My feet now stick to one place, velcroed by the gravity of lost choices, sandals tossed to the trash scarves folded into camphorwood chest earrings, toys for my neighbor's child. Yet, nights when the full moon rises and the raven sings his sweet song I take my crystal ball into lap and gaze at the glass, eye to eye, see the gypsy I once was, the gypsy I still am. My gift... Me returned to myself. Welcome home, the crystal sighs. Pris Campbell (c)2002 Art: The Gift, by Frank Messa Music:Tranquil, Opus 39, by Anton Diabelli beautifully synthesized by David Lovell Frank Messa is an artist whose images intoxicate by their imagery and beauty.. Visit his site for more of his fascinating work. |
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