Rembrandt Is Still Alive...A Poem

 

 

It occurred to me one day

that Rembrandt is alive,

alive as he ever was.

The essence of mind and soul,

his heart, response to life

as present in his painting

as ever in his body

in the Amsterdam of old.

 

Art is eternal,

all life immortal

through art,

all feeling and philosophy,

all spirit

and yearning of the flesh,

all poetry

and poignancy of life,

the timeless experience

of the tragedy of life,

the billions

of human confrontations

with beauty and ugliness,

ultimate death,

are seeds sown

in eternal art

that flower through ages,

giving birth in our time,

as in all others,

to reconnection,

like beads closely strung

on an endless string,

with all life

ever lived before,

all life yet to come;

with all aspiration

ever hoped in time now gone

that found fruition

or contempt

on man's epic journey

with nature and the gods.

 

How glad I am

that Rembrandt

is alive today,

a companion

on this voyage

through filth and stars,

continuing to remark,

in elevated terms,

on the beauty and foreboding

of earth, life and death,

of heaven and hell.

 

 

Copyright by Don Gray