By Claire Burianek
I suppose
that the value
of this complicated artist’s life
adds up to a sum
of nothing more than
a few prose scraps,
some meaningless musings,
and nothing more.
If this is true,
if this is all I have done
or will ever do,
perhaps I should find
fulfillment in that
small number
of good work done.
I have transformed
from hesitantly tapping the brakes
to stomping on the gas.
To relying on newfound speed,
and the thrill of it
is greater than security
could ever provide me.
I may not have them anymore,
but they were not for me.
I know who is for me.
And that is the most valuable discovery
I could make.
Yes, clouds gather,
and one may not catch a glimpse
of the glittering turquoise above
for more than a day,
but all clouds
dissipate eventually.
And all people
find truth
eventually.