Staring at a painting.
The bowl of fruit presented
so typical and the same as
the million ones before.
Slowly fades…
my vision closed.
Then, a vision came upon me.
A leaveless ash and oak had framed the scene:
A vibrant red pool of blood
beneath the corpse of man suspended
gripped by an angel
but absent ring for the halo expected.
The man, he dropped.
The angel walked.
His hand held out to mine.
“Who placed the stars above,
Who set the ground below,
Who breathed life into the breathless,
and every seed has sewn?
Since all the things He made are good
consume this bit of cherished food.
Eat and of this and you will see.”
It disappeared the visions way
and left my stomach upturned.
The painting still regular and like,
But deceiving life for life.

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