the lovely picture window (always the same, always different)

 

There are painters who must,

having found the place, must,

repaint it, compelled to repeat it,

each a variant, yet always the same,

always different

 

I awake to a perspective that is wide,

always differentiated from the prior,

always almost similar, but never with

the same exactitude, differing attitude,

same longitude, identical latitude,

always different

 

horizon distanced, in all ways a view

encompassing, duality near, far distant,

harmoniously, eyes open, magnetized

to wake before 6am by the suns modesty,

first light, first clarity, a curtain risen, yet,

always different

 

am I so blessed or thus cursed, for the urge

to disclaim and ode, compose and thus self-

decompose, analyze, reflect, slice apart, needing

the comprehensive understanding this me/place

scripts the raw appreciation, daily differentiated

always the same

 

this peaceful venue seizures, chest calmly

pounding at the insistence it commands,

the price I must pay for the prize to praise,

to sing, weep, reward restful sleep with lyrics

eked out, pouring, unsustainable yet finished,

always different

 

a single May Iris, returns, born from a torrential,

thunder, lightning, sky mayhem, rises by a sundial

greets midst a planted clump, upright rises, lavender,

in a majestic solitary, absent but a day prior, yet mine eyes

failed to witness its discernible emerging birthing creation,

always different,

always the same

 

here, I am Iris too, always the same, a day aged,

but the differences minute but stolid actualized,

this overnight sensation, my body’s restoration,

what I visualize, indivisible, now visible, realized,

miracle of continuity, unchanging chained change,

always different ,

always the same

 

wonder, am I more blessed, or a s~lightly cursed being,

my breath restored, wet eyes full brimming, changed,

revived but always modified, a newer old man, whose

sum total always a different number, but in sequential,

compelled to confess, no understanding of this miracle,

always the same,

always different,

this daily visionary miracle

-Nat Lipstadt via hellopoetry

Done