Weaved their green spine and their petals
Their branches, their limbs, and their essence
And put them into a mortar and pestle.
Add, daisy chains, Add, clam shells, their color, pearlescent
Then brown clay, dried from the oven manned by a stoker
then grind it up under the moon’s crescent.
Add water to mix, then, gelatin, for binding. They made ochre.
Brown but not quite brown, diluted with red,
With it, they paint their kings, their people, their empires.
Then a new pigment, with chalk and lead
Then add egg shells then egg white, oh so faint.
Purity, this new pigment, for blinding light shed.
Too pure for people, too pale to paint.
They mixed it with yellow ochre,
Then made the faces of their God and their saints.
