Juxtaposed
When humanity is juxtaposed with nature
Do I merely hold the artist’s brushes and pallet
As she paints with infinite beauty
On a canvas of unpredictable October days?
If my breath catches on the splendor
Of afternoon sun dappled on a green park bench
Brown leaves falling into the empty blue paddling pool
And a girl’s laughter cascading from high on a swing
As her trailing dark hair swishes amber grasses
Am I being etched into the eternal masterpiece?
When our being exalts in the day-after-day grandeur
Which today placed the Shard below a drooping yellow Ash
And the distant London Eye through a russet pine
Do we have the soul’s eyes of which John Ruskin spoke?
Melissa Rhoads, 22 October 2025
On walking to King’s College Hospital through Ruskin Park, South London