Anima Poem by Daniel Brick

In a high-domed room -
streams of light pouring
from a clear sky into the interior -
six painters are committed
to the creation of beauty
out of beauty. She sits
in a simple chair in the center of the room.
She moves very little, her expressiion is a half smile,
her thoughts are so deep, nothing appears on her face.
The painters are the planets orbiting
her sun. She is no longer just a model.
She is whatever each painter finds
appears on his canvas. It will surely be
the truth of his art. Consider the possibilities:
She is a princess robed in privilege and pride.
She is a star everyone envies and praises.
She is the fulfillment of her lavish wishes.
She is a mystery to herself as well as to the others.
One of the painters has dropped his brush. He closes
his eyes tightly, as if he is praying. He thinks,
"It is enough that I have looked upon you.
You can return to the sea foam
of your origins." She remains serenely silent.
The glow of the afternoon sun covers
the room in pale yellow light.