by Kiernan Antares
16″ x 16″
on Gallery Wood Panel
“The ocean can do without fish.
My soul, let me tell you a secret.
It is rare to meet a fish like the ocean.
Seawater is the nursing mother,
fish the crying babies.
But sometimes the ocean comes looking
for a particular fish to hear what it wants.
The ocean will not act before it knows.
The fish is an emperor then, the ocean, its minister.
How long will I keep talking in riddles?
Shams is the master that turns the earth fragrant.
When plants feel him near, they open out.
I would not have a soul,
if after tasting the taste of Shams,
I could go back to being who I was.”