Friday, March 09, 2007
Before it was a Cross, it was merely a cross.
I stand contemplating the shape. Like a stamp over the human form. Arms. Head and neck. The long sweep down to toes. The high intersection falls like bonds over the heart.
Does it pin them down? A prison of elegant geometry?
Perhaps those three points flow from the mind, from the deeds of each hand, inward toward the heart. There, the magic combines, and it flies down and down to make its mark in the watchful world.
I feel someone showing me.
I turn to catch a glimpse of the way they went.