Through the layers,
seen and unseen
Through the lines of colours and depth,
I saw an arena through the dryness
a veil of brown
left behind by the autumn sun
Like a show about to start.
These backgrounds
of ochre, green grey and red
stands pristine and naked
for its actors to appear.
The actors
masked like the romans
lived underneath these green and red
not knowing the play they are staged at,
not knowing that they are the unexpected expectants of this stage I see now.
Dragged and stuck, they move on
not able to see the picturesque I see now;
the picturesque I saw only when I climbed high
the picturesque I realise, I am a part of,
the picturesque I always overlooked by my ignorance and cowardice,
The picturesque that is the truth and is the God.
And here i sit, applauding like a sadist
beckoning my fellow men from below.
Knowing that in hours I will climb down to join them,
these masked ones-
who are my nostalgia and my future.
And they will scold and jeer
laugh and leer
and call me mad with eyes in fear
For abandoning the rational guise for a little while
For being the traitor and their despise.
-Prague 2015
spottypotterson 