! Ode On A Wedgwood Urn

It’s a gentle green in colour, sits on the shelf, still, contained, containing, and content; around it, another world is playing out its immortal role, in constant movement which somehow conveys to us, stillness, peace; there’s order in that world; and yes, John, you could well call it, unravish’d quietness: (you said, once, in your romantic way, that you were certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination; here's the urn to prove it..) erect yet relaxed in pose, hair in a chignon, one hand touching her neck, the other holding a rolled scroll, resting on what could be a reading desk; she’s elegant, attentive, sensing, observant, yet full of sweetest silent thought; she’s said to be Euterpe, goddess of lyric poetry; I should respect her, even beg. Another graceful figure, also lightly draped, so that her body is an open yet modest secret, plays the lyre to some timeless tune of truth; another leans upon a rough stone column, absorbed in what another with up-pointing hand is telling of what reigns above; beautiful truth; truthful beauty.. a second lyre rests, unattended yet significant, upon the ground; as if music’s secret musing remains always there, even when unplayed; sweeter when heard to be unheard.. three dance together; their lightness, grace, and ease are simultaneously celebration and surrender; their breeze-played draperies tell us how ethereal our holy bodies are, caught in the breeze of time; there’s more to them than meets the eye; but that’s what eyes are for, they say to us: to see, to know, they’re there.. trees throw out leaves, as if they hear the music, dance the dance, know that upwards is what they grow towards.. there’s an elegant brazier burning there; the scene is evidently not complete without the significance of the sacrificial fire; gentle green upon the shelf, contained, containing, and content, it plays out its destiny of gods and goddesses, muses, graces; unconcerned whether I should wish to look at it, admire it, perhaps ask questions of it; even, live a little of its life…