Works Of Art

What you see here is only a fragment.
A sudden flash.
An urge forward — but toward where?

“Jaeger” is not a conclusion.
It begins right in the midst of motion,
as if someone pressed pause
at the very moment before something is found.
Or lost.

The colors act like traces —
not loud, but watchful.
Orange — a call of warning.
Black — a cloak of concealment.
Purple flickers like a memory,
and where turquoise breaks, there lies a shimmer of possibility.

But nothing stays here.
Everything wants to move on.
The painting knows more than it shows.

It doesn’t speak in shapes,
it whispers in tones —
not volume,
but hue.

Those who do not merely see,
but listen,
understand that this is not an end.

A part is missing.
But not by chance.

It waits —
not here,
but close enough
that the gaze will someday remember
where it truly belongs.