Sunnyside up or scrambled,
Warm omelette made of cheese and ham, these
Breakfast dishes fill hungry palettes;
Let's savor Dali's egg, if you please.
As if it had been cracked above midair,
Leaving no sign of plate, shell, or drip,
The naked embryo just hung there
Poised upon a string without a slip.
Suspended in perfect balance
Is a reddish plasmic pith,
The essence of horizon's time;
Frozen, poultry's monolith.
That instant, the perfect stillness,
The swaylessness of the pendulum's string
May bring comfort and wonderment of how
He perfectly stopped moods alternating swing.
Dali mastered the moment,
Perhaps giving us the egg laid
By the golden goose.
I was fortunate enough to see a tremendous private collection of Salvador Dali's work. One of his works has been haunting me for thirty years. When I tried to find his work on a website, I was astonished to find that the artwork of which I speak was brushed in 1932, over seventy years ago.
This man was ahead of his time!