Breath

Is it madness to want
And to want to tell someone what the wanting is,
To make noise about it,
Break something delicate,
Play music
Climbing and intense?

If I listen
And strain to see - or say
At levels no one else has ever reached,
Can I carve this wooden knot,
Paint this orange and red and yellow sun,
Cup the ocean with my hands
- Or heart,
Smell the incense of a lover's hair,
Understand
Why children laugh, then run away?

Is it wonder makes me search,
Is it love - or lust,
Or maybe something else? Can I bridge
These dual responses that I feel,
Come to find some balance in my art?
What is art, but hunger clothed as joy,
Action fleeing judgment,
Anxious thought exemplified?

This is what I do
Because I want to do it.
This is what I can't explain
But have to tell you all about.
Listen to the words between the lines,
See the colors,
Hear the trill of violin,
Take the pure refreshment
From this Muse that poses naked.
All of it flows in and out
Like breath.