Inspiration Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Inspiration

Works of art scattered
In frames on canvas
Magic-filled colors
Sizes are different
Small some; or giant

“How were you inspired? ”
“What’s art can you say? ”

Silence seemed an answer
(Of lowest to highest)
Insistence was a gun
Loaded, set for duel
Self-killing, unable

“I listen to music
What I hear interpret.
Just canvas and colors
Mean nothing, empty.”
Said Svet; honestly.

Then she talked of Jesus
“A hand took my hand and
I went on with painting.”

Irina, naturist and antiques
Talked very romantic
Born Russian but abroad
For a time in Petrograd
Aware of such burdens
Talked of what I’ve heard
Immigrants’ stories
Forced or by will
(Include myself in.)
Like trees that are moved
Lost branches and the root
Just enough to suckle
Quietly eat the soil...