November 3, 2011


if art isn't a product of contemplation 
i don't know what is

thoughts in the form of prayer
for comfort?
for beauty, for visual appreciation?

the simplest phrases
and its just a figment, fraction, piece of mind
produced by naive imagination?

perhaps it is a pining desire
for transformation
imagined self-improvement plans
conjured up in minds
upon seeing pages in a book

one book,
speaking wisdom into my heart
like a live thing
it is alive

believe there is.
hope for the upcoming.

i know anxiety like none other
mostly inside dedicated moments
where my perfection tries
and my reflection lies.

art is the somewhat-graceful
child of losing oneself into a loud state of 
that which is thinking...
and then
Revelation breaks through
and the easy silence
holding three parcels,
unconditional things,
brushes my thoughts in passing
and i am free.