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The Bathers, by Paul Cézanne
Robert L. Martin

The Masterpiece

The Masterpiece
 
On the busy canvas
I left my sweat and tears
The vile faces of humanity
And the angelic smiles of bliss
 
As if the waves stopped
Before their boisterous pounding
And the rain floated above the calm
All nature froze before my aesthetic eyes
As if I was nature’s deity, her false Messiah
She praised me with her still repose
 
She saw me through her empathetic eyes
My fervent desire to touch her soul
But to me she was my deity
As she demanded my serious attention
We remained impassioned lovers and devotees
Throughout all our days and nights together
 
But my critical eyes told me good is not good enough
Something there still awaits its refinement
Its secret language spoke to the ear of my heart
It told me to look up toward the heavens
And let it move my hands to sacred places
Not in the line of vision,
But the embodiment of celestial dreams

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