The RikkiTikki Painting

Amongst our blogging crowd we now can boast a painter of phenominal talent. Please do take a moment to pop by and admire his creative talents. Artists are a group unto themselves and love or hate art, you have to admire the creative drive and passion that demands one try to take an idea and communicate it.

Ricki has asked that I write something inspired by one of his paintings. This is my feeble attempt to create something based on what he created. Don't laugh at me, 'kay?
It's not a poem... I'm not sure what the hell to call it.

The Ailing Child
Sing, sing the feathered ones home,
her singing bringing
the flying beasties one by one
two by two
to aid the ailing child.

Midnight crows, umber hawks,
cobalt doves with sterling wings
and even a noble rock eagle
came to hear her sing,
offering up their own cries of grief
and hope
to aid the ailing child.

But it was the strangeling beast
one unique and allone
that carried the secret born
in forgotten dreams
that would aid the ailing child.

The outcome matters not,
it said,
irridescent fur shining
with the fire
of a thousand thousand suns.

It's the journey, only the journey
that matters
for there are no endings - not really
not ever, not never -
only beginnings, middles and beginning again.

And it held the ailing child
as the woman sang,
all of them
watching
as a new beginning was begun.

Thank you from my heart bottom... i mean bottom of my heart

~grin~
and no - this isn't my ass - but it's a fine one doncha think? Love me some leather and thigh highs.
Story going up in the morning. I keep yawning.
I'm calling it an early night and curling up with a hot book.
Manana my darlings....

ps - what material/object do you love the feel of? Yeah - i know, loaded question with this crowd but some of you may surprise me.