Forgiven, the Poem

“Forgiven”

 

"Daughter," said He,

His eyes filled with tears.

"Father," I whispered,

Overcoming my fears.

"I knew you'd come back,"

He said as He held me.

"I'm sorry I left you..."

But He wouldn't let me

Speak the words

I wanted to say.

That's how my Father

Forgave me that day."

 

I wrote this poem back in November 2002. I had meant to include it with the painting, Forgiven, that I displayed in my blog (9-11-05), but the text I had written that day was already lengthy enough, and so I decided not to include it. In that entry (tenth paragraph), I explain the meaning of the painting, and why I painted it.

I don’t want to say too much about it here because words often detract from the meaning of a created thing.

Art is a two way experience. The one who created the piece experiences a process of discovery that culminates in the finished piece. The one who looks upon it or listens to it experiences some kind of personal interpretation, which may or may not be similar to what the artist had intended. Each person, the creator and the viewer, brings their past experiences, beliefs, feelings, hopes, and disappointments to the finished piece, forming yet another experience.

It is a genuine communication between souls. The artist has an experience of the heart and soul, and responds to it by producing something that can be experienced by the physical senses. In this way, the artist communicates to the other outside of herself, hoping to convey a single thought, word, idea, or concept. In this case, she takes the broad meaning of forgiveness and paints it in layers of color and shape, line and shadow, and emotion and memory. And hope. There is hope in everypiece. Hope that the message is received, understood, shared.

I cannot speak for other artists, although, I have spoken with many over the years. There is a purpose to their seeking even if they are unable to identify it at the time they are questioned. Sometimes it is about money, and financial reward, but more often, it is not about the money at all. Most of the time it is about saying something, capturing a moment, a feeling that inhabits us from time to time, too fleeting to grasp completely, too abstract to express in words.