Reflecting
By MM Panas
Acrylic on paper 3′ x 8′
Inspiration piece

Reflections of the Season
By JoAnn Moore
Response

Riotous spring colors erupt
through the landscape,

after weeks of mid-winter warmth,
safe in their evolutionary guideposts

that Mother Nature won’t
fail them.

Grandchildren run and climb
careful not to injure

the delicate daffodils, wayward
crocuses, insurgent magnolias.

Hues clash under the golden
warm blue sky. Meanwhile

the firmament rains
bombs the color of war

half a world away
as winter deepens.

With kindergartens crumbled and
streets on fire

subway tunnels become refuge
as teenagers, teachers and grandfathers

enlist.
Beacons

of pride
learning how to fire a gun—

disquietly knowing it all
can be rebuilt

except souls,
childhoods and truth.

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Nature’s Cycles
By MM Panas
24″ x 18″ Acrylic on paper
Response

The Memory of Scent
By JoAnn Moore
Inspiration piece

The lilacs finally bloomed the day before,
spilling sweetness through the window to your bed

and your low labored rattles. Ironic
that you, so angry and unforgiving,

favored the briefest of flowers— even
in dying.

Twenty months of treatment,
coma day eighteen, you began

to harden: pain lines furrowed deep, creased eyelids,
tightened fists, clenched jaw, curled toes. No amount

of morphine for release. Out in the yard
your first granddaughter picked every lilac;

filled each vase in the house, plus two
mixing bowls for the extras— immersing you

in the candied purple scent. Then into
the backyard corner she went where your darkest

purple tree awaited its own blossoming.
She scaled the ladder and cut the biggest

of the unopened flowers, fed that cutting
warm water and flooded it with lamp

light. By morning, only two panicles
opened. Your rattle roared—

drowning out the scent
the lilacs sang until she walked in your room,

brushed your face with that spray of deepest purple,
and laid the lone realized flower at your chin.

With the lifetime that fills three minutes—
in the dense, lilac-laden air— suddenly

you were quiet, and in the lines relaxed
upon your face, the earliness of a smile.

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Note: All of the art, writing, and music on this site belongs to the person who created it. Copying or republishing anything you see here without express and written permission from the author or artist is strictly prohibited.