Thursday, September 28, 2006


In the Dallas Museam of Art hangs my favorite painting--a huge landscape depicting the far north, complete with cliffs, the cold sea, and icebergs, from where this work derived its title. If you sit and stare at the painting, scenes start to emerge from the rocks and ice--faces in great agony, screaming for help--longing for someone to notice them in their pain. The artist put them there, hidden beneath layers of ice and paint, frozen forever in time. This painting inspired the following short poem. I hope you like it...


Beneath ice painted layers hide faces that cry
To be seen, to be loved, to be…

Treasures so missed for the beauty outside
They beg down to die, to be free

Trapped in alone that stifles their eyes
To dreams and crevasses they hold

And wonder aloud if any will see
To discover their story untold

Remembered by One that’s love in disguise
Who breathes fair upon frozen skin

And touches their tears that flow under ice,
They begin to again heal within

Through crying cold nights a new treasure they find
A joy they could never foresee

Still, a face buried deep that so wants to be seen
A face that’s a face—that’s me.

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