Big Rowan Ackison (greensh) wrote,
Big Rowan Ackison
greensh

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Poem - THe Master's Ouroboros

This poem marks day 60 of my 90 days of poetry. It has been an interesting journey. I've learned about myself. My frequent readers have probably learned a thing or two about me also! I've learned by doing, and the learning has progressed me from the macrocosm to the microcosm of poetry. I learn one thing, and then I challenge myself to do it BIGGER and BETTER. The poem “The Master's Ouroboros” is about the progression of individual artistry.

The Master's Ouroboros
Poem for Day 060 – 20141122

They call him Master.
To where does he look?
The big picture perhaps?
The smaller picture?
What does he best understand?
Look to his focus for the matter.

The beginner struggles with the large.
The big picture is their foe.
The understanding of the whole
is their first task at hand.
This to the memory they must this remand.
Only then can they move along.

The apprentice conquers the large, encounters the little.
So many things to consider, like puzzle pieces scattered.
Collect them up, sort them, put them in place.
Each is a domino, aligned to create the fates.
Separate together, important only in combination.
To account for this is the apprentice's vocation.

The Master moves to the smaller,
no hindrance in the little or larger.
The whole is good, how to make it better?
How to separate satisfaction from pleasure?
The Master makes an action so minute,
the world realigns to follow suite.

But wait, what is this? Can it be?
The large is contained in the little.
The struggle is bigger on the inside.
Ouroboros presides in the Master's soul.
The day of reckoning has been attained.
The Master becomes beginner again.

They call him Master.
He has seen it all: small, little, and large.
The only path forward is that not yet taken.
The unseen beckons to art reawakened.
The snake eats its tail, the world renews again.
The Master struggles with the large and all is well.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
Tags: art, artistry, master, mastery, poem
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