The Forgiving Room

Original painting by Jason Weaver 2016

Original painting by Jason Weaver 2016

I peeked inside after I’d found the door —
How could it be that I’d never seen it before?
A door to a room that I’d never known was there?

Yet there it was, a door with a light of gold
streaming upon the floor from below,
the key I turned with ease.

Within, the glow of a warming peace
did embrace and offer unto me its grace,
a gift that only I could have given unto myself —
forgiveness.

+++*****

I locked the door behind me as I left,
the key I tied on a string about my neck
so that this place would I never forget.

The Forgiving Room.

by Jason Weaver, 2016

Original painting, Capucine Flowers (2016) acrylic on canvas, 90×120 cm
The poem was inspired by a Sinead O’Connor song, The Healing Room, from the 2000 album Songs of Faith and Courage which I listened to endlessly while painting the Capucine Flowers.

 

 

Origin

Check out OpenLink at dverse Poets Pub every Tuesday at 3pm– for a chance to share and read some great poetry!

Proveniencia FINAL smaller

+++‘bem-te-vi–bem-te-vi
the shrill decree
of resident kiskadee
resonates in still
morning mist
+++ ‘I saw you well’
but whom did he see?
This, he would not tell.

by Jason Weaver, 2013

Author’s Note:
“Proveniência,”–2013 (which translates to ‘provenance’ or ‘origin’) is an original acrylic on canvas, 24″x36″, painted by me and commissioned by my Aunt Mary Shirk, who lives in Pennsylvania, US. It depicts my take on the original Pardise, where birds reenact the eating of the apple, in this case, a guava. The Kiskadee, pictured middle-right,  is called ‘Bem-te-vi’ in Brazil (promounce BAYM-che-vee), which is not only his name, but also what he says, which translates to “I saw you well.” In fable, it was the Bem-te-vi who alerted the Jews to Jesus with his cry “I saw you well” (whether purposefully or accidentally was not explained to me in the tale). The other two birds depicted in this Garden of Eden are ‘japu’ (Crested Oropendola), top left, and Sabiá Laranjeira, or the Rufous-bellied Thrush, which is the National Bird of Brazil. All three birds have very distinct and beautiful calls. The plants in this scene are all drawn from actual plants in my forest garden– bananas, guava tree, taioba (the green/purple leaves on the bottom right) and Costela de Adão (Adam’s Ribs) on the bottom left.  The red flower in the front center is called a Anthurium Andreanum or Painter’s Tongue (among other names) which is said to represent hospitality.  This particular bunch of bananas I had personally cut down, drew, and then (when ripened) ATE (of course, I shared with the Marmosets and birds as well).  It is up to the viewer to decide who ate of the fruit, as in this interpretaion, the Kiskadee  will not tell. Besides, in this version of Proveniéncia, innocence is kept.

Note of change: I updated this poem from the orignial posting by adding the word “This” to the final line for better rhyme and rhythm. I had initially omitted it, and then, upon umteenth reading, decided to add it in again 🙂

White Lilies and Grass

Lirios Brancos e Capim--2013 by Jason Weaver

In the ambience of this estival morn
I’d ambled, with eager pleasure,
to a sunlit patch of unshorn greens
cast amid the forested hill
and dewy still from the night just passed,
where capim grass grew as tall as lemon trees
and vines of a floriferous kind had wound themselves
down the length of an overgrown garden path.
Illuminate leafs rolled off the tall Cassia above
falling to the matted floor
like bits of confetti gold.
Though not sultry, the air, warm and humid,
was imbued with a heady bouquet as sweet as honeysuckle,
the ambrosial scent of abundant wild white lilies.
An eurhythmic cadence of mating cicada
undulated afore me and through me
as birds sang gaily of daybreak and
from across the ebulient valley a horseman
who had set his herd to pasture on the mountainside
called in zeal
++++++++ “Hyuh! Hyuh! Hyuh!”
I leaned into a bramble of esculent berries
where I plucked the ripest-reds,
each one pressed to my palette with my tongue and held
as though I were making memory–
–a confluence of touch and taste
of sight and sound
of smell–
that would pass as quickly
as it had come.

By Jason Weaver

Author’s Note: Lírios Brancos e Capim (White Lilies and Grass) –2013 by Jason Weaver, an orignal painting, acrylic on canvas

Also: This photo-poetry post has been submitted to dVerse Poet’s Pub, a great place to share poetry! Check it out!