Dervish In The Sky

                                 "Look, mother,"
                                A little boy cries
                            Under my sanitarium window
                     "Someone took that madman's sunflowers
                             And sent them spinning
                                 Across the sky."

                                   The sky!
                       My ill eyes did not look on alone!
                      The cosmos were whirling rose-windows
                      All peering into galactic cathedrals
                        I see it all, I envision nothing
                          I feel the illness slip away
                            If only to let me paint
                            This dervish in the sky

                              Feeling the grains
                           On the shaft of my brush
                     It urges the rives of oil and pigment
                      Brings a tidal wave onto the canvas
                            I am bound in wonderment
                       The paintbrush is a crooked madman
                       Attacking the doctor-white canvas

    
                       My brother, my friend do not see
                         It's the only gauze I need
                        Bristles, wood leading flesh
                      Colors both cheerful and tearful
                               Explode from me
                       As these flickering star-rivers
                               Explode from God
                          An illuminated harbinger
                            To his gift of Death