Wisdom Visions  
Wisdom Visions
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Illustration by Phyllis Schwartz


by Gill Schwartz




And when I am and think of green
and see and taste and grasp of green,
float down in a sea, a rolling,
swelling sea of green.
Ah, green, green.

First I shut my eyes hard, hard.
Then from that twinkling blackness
comes an Eye to mine, Eye to eyes.
And it starts.

That Eye etched in jet-black, with a center
like a well that splashes swirls of altering hues.
Hard, deep I look, just to the point where the spirals
start within the pupil. The colors bloom out,
spread out to the rim. Stark red, then orange,
then black; its somber shade engulfs again.

Then blue. Blue tries to stay, cool caressing
blue would stay. But then blooms green again.
Now cool green, cooler than icy blue.
It spreads out in the Eye, out till it fills to it the rim.
Then all is green. The Eye is gone. There is only green.

Then from that well green blooms again.
But now hot green, green filled with flame.
It spreads and engulfs cool green.
Then blooms another, green of grassy pastures.
Then another, green of unknown ocean depths.
Greens that blend, greens that fight.
In my eyes are waves and waves of greens.
Now startle bright, then somber, inky dark.
Greens of hope. Despairs of green,
changing, mixing, swirling.

I am lost in waves and waves of greens.
I know all greens. I feel them all.
My heart bathes in them all.
I am the whirling, boundless greens.
Round and round and round.

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