I’m an artist, I say
I paint, I draw
I stay in my lane
Then music comes
Notes never before combined - that I know of -
Demanding to be played
I’m a musician too, now
Uncomfortable with this lane change
I have stories
Made up half-truths
Non-fiction, inspiring
I write streams of consciousness daily
Blue-inked mental fecal matter
Smeared across three pages
Then, recalling a bible story
I wonder...
Knowing how much is fiction there
Who or what is missing
(The victors always write a history that serves them)
What another possible truth is
One that calls to be written
But I am artist, I say
I paint, I draw
I stay in my lane
Only merging with the black & white ivory
To the left, occasionally, singing along with radio
Transmissions I pick up
But I haven’t been painting
Or drawing lately
I consider this impulse to change lanes again
And I start to write
I’m an artist, I say
I paint, I draw
Compose, sing
And write
I put on my blinkers
a rearview glance
checking for safety
as I change lanes
I’m an artist
Yes, you are an artist, a writer, a singer, even more, always searching your soul. At life’s halfway point now, things don’t always get figured out. But accepted and absorbed into your peaceful self going forward.
"Change lanes..." Yup.