Art of the Most Unexpected Kind
The factory is empty, long abandoned.
Sunlight cuts through the broken windows.
Stand still, and you can hear water dripping
from the rusted pipes.
Puddles litter the floor, from a roof leaking.
Each pipe cuts through the sunlight,
a strange artist’s drawing, a thing with purpose,
and now a purpose changed.
You can relate. You, with your own brokenness
and abandonment. You have become something new,
something unimagined, from ruin, you have become art
of the most unexpected kind.
About this poem
It is common, when life has been hard and we are not what we once were, to mourn, missing what we have become. Something new, and generally, just as wonderful.
Only in a different way.
The picture was taken at Mass MoCA, the museum of contemporary art. The museum is in a repurposed old factory, and they have left this part as it was. It may be my favorite part of the whole place.