Is it the colour or is it the form,
so full and round,
has me fall in love with this shapely urn
meant to hold grain?
I don’t care what it was made to contain
in the line of imposed need,
its duty,
its purpose to feed.
I simply warm
to its plain beauty;
I yearn
to clasp and hold
the whole to my body, or bang
my fingernails on its outer shell
to hear its long, reverberating clang.
It is very old,
coloured faint pink and soft green
(which I think of as colours of healing),
a closer look revealing
those patterns of lozenges and scrolls.
The label says bronze, so I know
it would have that clanging sound,
if I struck it like an instrument: a deep knell
ringing for its past people
and all the places it and they had been –
like a solemn church bell
that tolls
deep and low
in a lonely steeple.
Image of the container, in the online gallery of the Peabody-Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts, from the Chinese art collection: click here and scroll down.
An interesting choice of relic, Rosemary, and I like the way it took you on a journey, that you ‘simply warm to its plain beauty’. Great appeal to the senses, too, especially sound.
ReplyDeleteThank you. It was love at first sight.
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