CANVASSING

You could paint a picture of the miracle of courage.

The courage of the long-suffering, the wisdom of the unknown.

A picture of human triumph over pain, dignity’s conquest of shame.

I would watch you paint a miracle.

As sure as daylight folds into the void of darkness,

I am watching you painting tragedies.

 

Firestorms swirling across unsuspecting landscapes.

History’s buried shame birthing new trauma.

As the light at the end of the tunnel blinds your eyes,

I am watching you painting tragedies.

 

Monstrous sermons, bastardize the son.

Soiled sunday dresses, the damning of humanity.

As the passion twists the logic,

I am watching you painting tragedies.

 

Ancient tears dried on pages that tell stories of decay.

Thriving in the rot-infested gut of a beast of your own creation.

True, as it is, the cruelest of all ironies,

I am watching you painting tragedies.

 

Aimless strokes, your will against unforgiving fate.

Wounded animals, deconstructed lovers.

As surely as it is an incestuous affair with suffering,

I am watching you painting tragedies.

 

You could paint a picture of the miracle of healing.

A monument to human triumph over pain, a path cleared thru a lush forest.

True, as it is, the sculpting of hope from the ruins. I will watch you paint a miracle.