I painted a picturethat wasn't real,
glossed over the truth
with rosy strokes,
altering reality
with Love's false media.
Honest rain came
and washed away
my revisionist design,
revealing the genuine
in unvarnished clarity.
And though the
art beneath
is regretful and bittersweet,
I must accept
its authenticity.
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5 comments:
We all do this - look back on bad relationships with rose-colored glasses. Love is indeed a whitewash on reality. I like your take on things. Very creative.
I am always moved by your poetic soul.
Life is often a whitewash of reality. Reality is, and we make up our entire response to it. What's real is what is. What's not real is all we do with it.
So I suppose I'm making this up. And so what? Because your loving heart and deep willingness for intimacy seem astonishingly obvious to me.
Consider: Too many conditions means too many blinders to what is. Sometimes the key is to not know, not interpret, not tell too many stories to yourself, and just see what's there in front of you. And sometimes, it's not what you think and feel but how you are that makes all the difference in the world.
I have the idea that love will find a way with you. For the you that I read in your poetry is so wonderfully rich in texture and capacity. Now all that's left is to burn away need and doubt, and discover your capacity for joy again. Then the beauty and wonder of who you are can shine like a star and draw to you from near or far such delight as to leave you with only one question: How could you ever have doubted it?
I believe (even when you don't believe) that true love will find its way back to you.
bueatifull! (i cant spell)
love it!
www.msteenyboppermom.com
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