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by Kenn Sava©

The Line is True

Perfect

Without Beginning

Without End

It sings the song of Essence

It Frees the Mind

To go where it might

Without Boundaries

Or constraint.

Whether One

Or Many

They Journey

Through their lives

Freed from Time

Freed from Place

Perusuing the Purity of Your Intention

They are all that remain.

The Brush has been set down

The Color has been sent away.

The Pen paints Black

Lines

On White.

The basic form

That doesn’t exist in Nature

Like yours Do,

Oh, Goddess of Line.

Bold

Subtle

Sure

Ordered

Singular

Or In Concert

They Flowed

From your Mind’s Eye

Through Your Hand

From Your Pen

To the Infinite

To That Place where…

We live without form

Or Any constraints.

The Truth Lives without time

or confinement

Free…To Be

What it is.

April 28, 2016.

A Detail from Untitled ca. 1980, Graphite on Paper, by Nasreen Mohamedi.

This is Part Two of my pieces on Nasreen Mohamedi. Part One is here.

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