The Wall

The Wall (Oil 24X30)

Song of Solomon 2:8-11 The voice of my Beloved, Behold, he comes, Leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills, My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag.

Behold He stands behind our wall, He is looking through the windows, Gazing through the lattice, My beloved spoke, and said to me: Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away, for lo the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.

The Canvas called back to the Master Artist. "I am comfortable within my wall, do not make me go where I do not want to go. Especially on the mountain top where you skip like a gazelle.

I have given you feet like hinds feet, and I will never call you to go any where that I am not. I am resurrected Life, and for you to come alive, you must follow me, you must move to my touch. The winter has past, there are flowers appearing and singing has come. Even the turtledove is heard in our land.

I am still petting the winter months when harsh days took away my dignity and purpose. How can I hear singing when voices of the past still sound in my head?

You must trust my voice. I want you with me, bur you must leave your wall, your comfort, the old life and come away, my Beloved.

Turn now and go and come again when I am ready.