An Artists’ Baptism
The fresh, unblemished smell
In a ream of blank paper;
Fanning the pages.
A primed, white-washed
And mounted canvas.
The sculptor’s delivery
In a square block of Venetian marble.
Or a freshly, fallen snow
Just before your child’s first foot falls.
All are Sacraments of Baptism:
To wash away our wrongs,
And attempt, again, to start anew…
11.14.08 John Tansey
Copyright ©2008 John Thomas Tansey
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem