My artist friend in New York has just published this work. It is my favourite. I couldn't resist a poem, and she must forgive me if my 'take' on the work is faulty.
I had to look-up the meaning of the word 'Parabola' I'm afraid and I print details at the end of this blog, even though my poem doesn't reflect the title!
Margaret's work can be found at
Our finger-print covers the earth.
See the loops and whirls
Clearly on the descending finger.
The Con-descending finger!
For do we not consider ourselves
The greatest creation?
Yet the shape of the print is filmy,
Soon to be blown away.
Through it's finger-like window
We can see what will remain.
The wine-dark sea.
The wave-shaped sand.
The grainy wood.
The streaming clouds.
The mysterious ether.
They will all remain
When the finger-print has gone.
A dark sun is setting.
A pale moon is weeping.