Sean Callahan
“Head Full of Bees”
Inspiration piece
Even Bees Dream of Paris
By Amy Souza
Response
Truth is plural, you said.
My truth, your truth, theirs.
All of us are right, but none wholly so.
Just for today, I will release the struggle.
Sit on the dock. Feel the sun on my arms, tops of my feet.
Rough wood below locks me in place.
My soul needs rest,
even as its fancies buzz and swirl toward passions,
their calls from God.
I will sit, drink in the day, feel a stretch along my spine,
acknowledge this body for where it’s taken me, what it allows.
Each breath enters deeply, departs slowly.
Salt air on my tongue.
My purpose need be nothing more than this: silent thanks for what is.
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2 Comments
I love this…both painting and writing…I kept reading it over and over…really love it!!
I swoop by and savor the painting and then the words — thankful that they do not exactly add up — and then I do a barrel roll and an Emmelman turn and come on through again upside down — shooting just as usual through the propellors — plant the Bandarillos just so and follow through with a Veronica. I then, of course, stick out my tongue exactly as instructed and once again I sow my salt seed and continue to careen down the mankind-making stations of the breath. I Dylan – middle-named my first because of art and song like this that splatters me with plural truths I never asked for and otherwise would never have inhaled.