It’s in There Somewhere

It is kind of a mess,
slashes of paint,
brush strokes from half a dozen brushes.
Colors that clash yet
seem determined to live in the same painting.

At times I feel I am in the midst of battle.
Heaven and hell inside myself,
a cacophany of music, Wagner and Debussy
in a war of pace and expectations,
Viking women singing Gregorian chants
with gusto.

The art in life is learning what to listen to,
what is worth focusing on, and in the midst of it all,
still hearing the child’s voice.

About this poem

Some mornings my mind is too busy. This is one of those mornings.

I am at my diner. The stereo is playing old time fiddle music. The person at the table next to me is playing Talking Heads in their phone. The place is packed and the variety of conversations is dizzying. Oddly, I pray a lot at the diner, noise and all. It focuses me.

I am off to the studio this morning, to reclaim some of my inner child. The adult in me is worn out.

From all that, this poem.

The painting is one of mine. “Christ in the Chaos“.

Tom