They tumble forth.
I have a horror of my words,
And yet I love them.
They seize me and shape my thought,
Make reality their plaything
There seems no end to their size or shape
or acrobatic skill.
They tumble forth,
Laughing or crying as they will,
And survive in the belief
That they are something new under the sun.
Reprinted with permission from Twin Muses: Art and Poetry, by Amy Kindred et al. (AKindred Art Publications, 2010). In the summer of 2009, the Rev. Amy Kindred sent a request to arts organizations that work with the Indiana Arts Commission. “I asked writers to visit my website and view my work. Then, I invited them to create or find poetry that they’ve written that would go along with the works of art and submit the poems for possible publication.” The result is Twin Muses: Art and Poetry, a hardcover book of twenty-two of Kindred’s paintings and twenth-nine poems by twenty writers, published by Kindred in 2010. This poem was paired with Kindred's painting “Dew Drops.”blog comments powered by Disqus