The Solitude Of The Soul Poem by Jared Carter

'In stone, four life-sized nude figures, two male
and two female, posed around and halfway emerging
from, or captured by, an indistinct central volume.
By the American sculptor Lorado Taft,1860-1936.
In the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.'

Silence made tangible, serenely caught
In bounded space. Pure form revealed, stripped bare,
Bereft of guises and disguises. Ought
Matters not, nor might have been. They wear
Each other's presence like a flower, yet find
No comfort in the vine of outstretched hands
That draws them close. No mortal sleep could bind
Such distances. In dreams, we understand
But cannot have. Awake, we strive to know
But still must journey on. Yet here, a flame
Moves warily among these polished forms,
Seeking through art what life cannot bestow -
The moment come again, the touch, the name.
As lightning's torch is herald to the storm.


First published in The New Formalist.