Not a Natural Artist
Not a Natural Artist
Blurring layers of gray
From a picture I hold in my head
Made of volatile glass, constantly shifting
Twisting stars and loops and shining spiral flowers
To transfer from picture frame to the flowing surface of paper
And the stars lose their shine
The spirals twist out of shape and shatter
From an impeccable image to gray leftovers
That wasn’t what I imagined
Shattered glass sparkling in its own pattern
Weaving a path like a constellation
Shining with its own broken beauty
The beauty of having changed and stayed intact
Like clay that was bent in the opposite direction by the push of a finger
That couldn’t be fixed by pushes or pulls or twists
But maybe it’s fine
Because mistakes have their own beauty too
Of what can be made through what’s unintended
Sometimes that’s more honest — what’s done without thinking, eyes closed
No light, no color to twist our perception
Only the frames of our thoughts to turn out of our mind
And into the coldness of reality from a mere mirage
Sometimes, quilt of your mind reflected in a pond
Or a foundation broken beyond repair
A sharp fear that it has different hues than what you cherished
So the shapes dry up
The feeling wasn’t right
Transported back to the cage of the mind
Only a confused mass of knots that was lost in transition
No one place to untangle it, no place to grasp
So shake it and drop it
And in the remains, truth crystallizes like silver
Reflecting the complicated and honest mess that our minds are
And continue to be
The knots and fear make us who we are
And not someone else, even if it feels easier
The fear isn’t something to be afraid of
But a sign of our effort and care and the courage to give our
map to the world
No matter how it is received
With mistakes and contradictions that mark and deliver our existence