Emily Isaacson - Company Message
Colored Panes 

"Colored panes belayed the light, and images of the saints 
tiptoed in the quiet."

                                                              Emily Isaacson

In the flower shoppe,
the peeling red roses—
startling of love from barrels in corners—
asking for respite in desperate voices,
writing on note cards in spidery scrawl  
the quiet to steal heart after heart;   
a subtle perfume, dense and aromatic,    
as you were, the colorful bouquet,    
woven dexterous      
by angels.       
The dark comes at the end of each evening,
blotting out the transgression of former hours, 
piercing through our sin are the stars.
They compared me once to a night without stars.   
In all her journeys into the soul, a woman 
gathers her power as nature recreates itself each day    
summoning all that is within her,    
she imparts strength to those she loves   
and those she must forgive,
writing them notes with flowers. 
Emily Isaacson