Sunday, November 15, 2009

I'm Not An Artist by Alma de la Melena Cox



I'm not an artist.
Yes you are.
Palette ready. The door ajar.

Life is waiting, easel bare.
Courage to create. Is that fair?

Brush in hand, forgive and forget.
Say and not say, with some regrets.

We paint over, not quite ready.
Hand is shaking, but sometimes steady.

Designing the line, straight or curved.
I pick a path, it feels absurd.

We choose the colors, laugh and cry,
do and not do. Our choice, to fly.

Canvas is full, heart and mind.
Space is needed, but where's the time?

Art is speaking and what I see
dark or light, depends on me.

I'm not an artist.
So you said.
Life is waiting, I'll paint again.

2 comments:

katiebird said...

This is beautiful and heart felt my friend :) love you.

Cate Read Hickman said...

I love your poem, Alma. You sum up the feelings so well. I'm coming up for air from the holidays, and have your book, my class notes, and a coupon for Michael's, and plan to get supplies to do Telemadera here at home. Thank you again for the wonderful class up here in Portland that you arranged for me to attend. Greggory (my 8 y/o) loves his orange kitty picture. It turned out great--the varnish hid the imperfections in the outlining fabric paint (phew). Thank you, too, for your kind and inspirational message you wrote to me when you signed your last month. Take care. Wishing you a very Happy New Year!
Cate