I hear the gold-framed painting say to me
inaudibly, while I observe what’s shown me:
‘I hang in nothingness, am semblance only
of oak and meadow, cloud and heath and sea;
in me has Brahman’s thought attained what he
in your reality likewise had wished to.
With cosmic Self-Awareness I’ll enrich you;
sink through my semblance into Being – free.’
The Panorama though spoils consecration,
irks with sly, spooked and false representation –
surly and vexed, I seek the honest street
where, joy made keener by unsullied truth,
with clicks and clatter, squeals and shrieks uncouth,
life motors, cycles, trams at breakneck speed.
An explanation of what the Panorama is can be found here.