Sidewalk Chalk

The artist’s heart beats in colors –
Magenta and turquoise, scarlet and royal purple.

It sings a song of harmony and discord,
In crystal highs and growling lows.

It pours life and movement into humble things –
Stone, wood, canvas, paper.

It crafts a secret thought into a tale
That speaks truth for generations.

It dances with joy,
Arms flung wide, face to the rain

It squeezes out in the margins of lined paper
Masquerading as notes in a corporate boardroom.

It’s a couple of jazz steps
To muzak in the produce aisle.

It lives in the sidewalk masterpiece
That washes away in the next hot summer rain.

It bursts into an alchemist’s flame,
Turning daily dross into living gold.

It craves the thing that has never been
And demands expression.

It is a truth that must be told in our acquisitive world
Of concrete and spreadsheets.

The artist’s heart is the heart of humanity,
Pouring out life and color, song and poetry
To the very…last…beat.