Poèmes créés à partir de l’exposition / Poems inspired by: Le caractère sacré de la pierre / The numinosity of stone (2011) où était présentée l’œuvre / where was presented Apprendre / To Learn.
Claim to Brilliance
I thank you all for coming
to my presentation
on those whose research
led to proving
the sun is the centre
of the universe
And I also wish to thank
those who placed me
at the centre of my audience
but please rest assured
I do not make any claim
to brilliance
Robert Hawkes
Sentinels, poppy press, Fredericton, 2012
utilisation permise par l’auteur
Les prochains poèmes ont été composés par les élèves participant au Programme d’art après-cours de la Galerie Beaverbrook. Présentés ici avec autorisation.
Below, poem project with the children of the After School Art Program at Beaverbrook Art Gallery. Used with permission.
In the middle of a fairy circle
Eleven magical rocks
One high in the sky to be
Harmless, magical and free.
Leather cushioning eleven magic candles
Safe out of harm’s way, to be used to
Show the pathway to be free.
I see a dancing flame in the distance
Red, yellow and orange.
I see some one in the distance
Who gives me the candle.
I look in the flame
And see a pathway
To be free from pain and sadness,
To be happy again!
I walk through the flame of peacefulness
And free!
By Patricia Forestall (student/élève)
The wax of the silver candle
Trickling, falling
Slowly dissolving.
Eleven stones of the grand mountain
Cushioning the drops as they re-form.
The stones of creation hold them in place
As four shadows fall to the ground.
The shadows hold secrets of life and pain.
Eternity hides in the first shadow
A shadow frozen in birth.
Power found in the second
A shadow that no one can hold.
Darkness is hidden in the third
A deathly shadow to be held in no hand.
The final shadow holds a key
The key to all good and evil.
In the power of the moon and sun
Lies the key of the shadow
Shadow of the key is the shadow
of which the silver candle is shown.
The wax of the silver candle
Trickling, falling, slowly dissolving.
Droplets of peace.
Droplets of silence.
By Georgia Christie (student/élève)
I would call it the glowing tree
Sort of like a lonely bee.
There are eleven rocks, missing three –
It feels like a dream.
There’s a mysterious voice behind the scene…
A peace tree.
By Wallis Leonard (student/élève)