The painter awakes another day
with a wisdom held to heart
this mantra they’ll pass to you
before resisting with their tools

beware the whispers that intrude
seeking purchase in your thoughts
malignant tendrils that confuse
the hold on life we pursue

stepping light to not awake
the monsters waiting for their turn
escape is possible if I resist
hope the ground will remain firm

most don’t see the waiting cracks
chasms hid beneath veneers
kept intact by wash washed strokes
another layer against the doom

an artist using their only tool
however feeble the attempt may be
hands to ears in slack defense
the brush as sword once again

fighting shadows beneath the paint
wishing more was possible
fiends that murmur nonetheless
waiting for another day.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180630.