I went to the MoMA last Tuesday and had what can best be referred to as a religious experience. This is what I wrote about it. ♥ EAB
Transubstantiation
It’s underneath your heels, pushing you forward,
the breath of a whisper against your neck,
the tipping after the tap of your footfalls on the pavement.
You can feel Its hints within everything—
the alignment of the stars,
the engineer’s placement of protective orbs,
the deliberate care of a pencil stroke,
the line of limbs’ grace against negative space,
the brushstrokes that translated a drawn out Hallelujah
from oils and flat pigments.
Its coolness stalks you,
first appearing as goose bumps on your bare flesh.
Everything must stand to take notice,
you see, for when It comes,
you will know knowing.
Your strides shorten.
A guard stands watch before an homage
to beauty within terror,
and an angel overtakes him.
He smiles back, knowingly,
and softly singing sacred words
that find ballast within the curls of a melody,
the entire room is transformed into a temple, a cathedral,
where silent awe—pooling, swirling, rising, crashing—
overflows from the faithful
and into deep, empty wells the faithless,
and It steps out from a spot beneath your shadow to announce,
“I am HERE. I am EVERYWHERE.
I have always been EVERYWHERE.”