Art
It is the tiny pink rose
Behind the ear of God
I place mine there
Not because I rage against death
I a short interval between the not yet
And the forever gone
I place it there lightly
I accept the near perfect weightlessness that I am
I place it there
Because the infinitesimally small time that I am
Is a lightness that I am not afraid of
I am not afraid of the inscrutable vastness of God
My tiny pink rose
The one with my flesh and blood on it
I balance it lightly
My pleasure of the Now
Beauty dying
Beauty being born
Traveling up the hot veins of oblivious stars
It’s worth the bemused smile of an Eternity
A sharp glance of a God
Dan Corjescu teaches at the University of Tübingen’s “Studium Professionale” Program
