24" x 36" oil paint on wood panel
If I had known
How many times
My desires would be dashed
By life’s relentless indifference
I’m not sure I would have signed up for this.
Am I a fool
To keep hoping?
If hope’s function
Is to dissociate into a fantasy
Then maybe so.
What if hope
Is the language of desire
Wafting like the incense of heart light
Into my ever-finite expression of life?
Until the end.