Above: prompt image

As I left I told an exhibition steward *how* I saw it
The paper
The threads
The impossibility of it
– flying – floating –
Held motionless
Yet ceaselessly moving
in a way that, to me
never ceased to loop, to move, to shift
boats bobbing in white water that wasn’t
As I struggled away sea-sick and swaying
I thought the artist might want to know
Know I could *see*
All artists
?I think?
Hope to convey a *way* of seeing the world
To share their inner world
So I sat there
– impossibly –
– improbably –
watching ‘paper birds’ float in an endless loop above a desk
…circling in, and round, and over…
unexpected, certainly
Yet a welcome thread
-of colour
-of joy
winding onward
through my tapestry of becoming

Below:
Gallery and exhibition referenced in the poem