Give Me Art

I am not sure if this is satire or a little melancholia.  I wrote this to detail my feelings as I discard certain “things” from my home in my desire to lighten the load, and not have so much “stuff.”  I was thinking about art in all of its forms. Art that requires physical space and art that occupies mental space.  I LOVE art I can touch, but I also love art I can read and hear.  This was an effort to console me. 

Give me art.

I must discard the canvas gently stroked with your brush.
The swirls and the colors shaped beautifully by your gift.
The fiber and the texture I can feel with my touch.
It is time to let it go.
Its dwelling place is gone.
Give me art.
I want to hold it close.
Write down the words that fill that space.
The beautiful prose I hear. 
Formed lyrically from your talent.
I have a home to store it.
Give me art.
Never to be cast out.
My spirit will hold the verse
and it will rest upon my heart.
 

 

 

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