It’s hard to resist a poem that directly references works of art. The hardest part was trying to decide which art to use. though not so hard after all. I was tempted to choose a still life, but I do love Vermeer.
by Jane Kenyon
Christ has been done to death
in the cold reaches of northern Europe
a thousand thousand times.
and cheese appear on a plate
beside a gleaming pewter beaker of beer.
Now tell me that the Holy Ghost
does not reside in the play of light
A Woman makes lace,
with a moist-eyed spaniel lying
at her small shapely feet.
Even the maid with the chamber pot
is here; the naughty, red-cheeked girl. . . .
And the merchant’s wife, still
in her yellow dressing gown
at noon, dips her quill into India ink
with an air of cautious pleasure.