(A poem depicting the work and art of Frank Lloyd Wright)

Music can not replace it, or define it,
Age may erase it, or it might combine it.
It's shape's sparing the room it's cycle,
A word even to hold it's space in a form.
Straight up and down, we have gravity,
Right and left, there can be a right and wrong.
Supports now seen different, but living longer.

Conformity in the mind, it's thought to have many,
But this one may have thought,
Jazz it up, it doesn't need it.
Basic lines are never dismayed,
Never a clumsy form in the shelf.
And it will never end it's shelf life,
As I can see, his thoughts to have many.

A cross current, going with a certain direction,
The same today as yesterday, it was even there,
Even before the yesterday,
We just needed someone to show us how it is.

Humble a loving line that's said,
From each house, different in it's life.
Keep filling in it's line, from even the still.
We'll think progression is always better,
Should we need even more stars in the sky.

Your progressive thinking,
Is what's simply as practical now.
What would be practical then,
In it's theme, it is proper.
But not played the same way twice,
The older I feel, the younger I want it to be,
For in his case, he was ahead of our time.

Not all agree it's for them,
It's process as defined,
Purpose on the ability on how we should live.
Of all that's written and descussed about him,
It's funny, that what one line can be said about him,
He can start with that same line,
And always end up as different,
Within it's space, and last for time.

It's that something we thought, then mistaken,
Might work today after all.
I think of him as that kind of a person,
Where he had found it, maybe it was two stars
That lined up perfectly to two others.
Maybe he saw two shores the same,
With the same two tides, with different seas.

Maybe he saw the straight colors in a diamond,
Or maybe the straight lines of the flying geese.
In his work, he somehow brought it into nature,
And he showed us all, that it was his adventure.

©2007, Ron Globe