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a poem I wrote
When sight betrays you.
When what you hear is not under control.
What fights the madness?
Lying prone in the bedroom
I do not know
Yet I fight on.
The problem stems from the maddening beauty in the world.
To understand all one must do is look to the heavens.
With careless art God paints a spectacle,
And I shake when it touches my heart.
This beauty urges me to live.
Yet my heart
That loves and hurts
Runs amok
The images too powerful -
Out of control.
So I lie in my bedroom – fighting
Wishing the world was less bright,
Less noisy
Sane and cold.
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