These are some of Austin Torney’s favorite art pieces that he composited, along with verse:
Above us, the branches slowly sway, and fan
Away the little creatures that try to land.
The trickling waters play tinkling lullabies,
While flocks of returning geese fly the skies.
(21 more images)
Where go the leaves of yesterday, we say,
Aft winter comes and crumbles them away?
They like us turn to dust—rejoin the clay,
To rise someday, from unremembered lay.
Bickering and quarreling expend breath,
Sap energy, and undo love’s promise.
Precious breath, waste it not when you have it!
Enjoy all that life can give, ere comes death.
Life, although anguishing, must be lived fully,
Since, if we’re alive enough to feel its beauty
Then we’re exposed to its opposite twin;
Yes, Beauty’s other side is Melancholy.
The Angel of Light found Omar to bless,
And said, “Khayyàm, I must soon repossess
Your clay, so let us drink to your success!”
He drank and smiled, then met Life’s last caress.
I caress her tresses, in romantic rhythm,
To the contented sighs she sends toward Heaven.
We slumber where the grass fledges the stream,
Half-awake or asleep in love’s peaceful dream.
The sky is lit, a twinkling promenade
Of mating calls from luminated pods,
Tracers pulsing wild, searching thoughts that smile—
From fireflies named Winkin’, Blinkin’, and Nod.
It is to Eve that we must give our thanks,
For Earth’s variety of fruits and plants,
For when she was out of Paradise thrown,
She stole all the flowers we’ve ever known.
Where is the Light that shines to make me so?
‘Twas born of the stars in that milky glow.
There is a light seed grain deep inside you.
You fill it up with yourself, or it dies.
The Great Equalizer stalks all creatures made,
Lying ever just ‘round the corner, in the shade,
Taking both human and the beetle as one,
After their lives are spent from rolling some dung.
Later, when surely all the world is dead,
A fairy stands atop Old Winter’s grave
And says, “’tis not dead”, and by magic bred
Makes Snowdrops flower in the tomb’s heat wave.
Rural cemeteries were as parks back then,
So we played near the duck pond, giving them bread.
Some years later, I returned, like a goose
That had been away for too many summers.
All from stardust begins and ends in thee.
The mighty wrecks of the elements are strewn
Across the universe like chaff from the harvest,
Much of the Cosmos still a vast wasteland.
There! What uncanny things flock, in between,
Unknown in the shadows, there but unseen?
They’re dream-visions—completing the triad of
Earth’s Heavenly things, with flowers and love.
Loving is what this life is all about;
To give and have it is to live all-out!
Love’s the finest thing! Can I do without?
Then why oh why do you not seek it out?
Across the lea and on the moor she shows.
Along the lane and through woodland meadows,
Eve—Mother Nature—yet lives in boughs
And thickets, still imparting all she knows.
The child in us was warm, playful, and bold,
But vanished ere we knew, leaving us cold.
Now this we know: The day we stop being
Playful is the day we start to get old.
Without so much much as a word to say,
I passed those to whom most no longer pray,
Nor believe in, but once did, namely,
Those of the graveyard tombstones now so unholy.
Ever, the immortal Periwinkle,
Which, like the winter stars that twinkle,
Spreads through the snow its glossy flowers,
To remind us of the spring’s sunny hours.
(Need a verse)
Adam and Eve Sapiens goofed in no time,
As of Intelligent Design there was no sign;
Noah’s progeny screwed up right and left,
Since they were of a Master’s hand bereft.
He slays by flame and flood excruciate;
He entraps; he blames us for his mistake;
He holds grudges for our ancestors’ sins;
He throws tantrums and fits; his name, God Sake!