Beyond Art

Seen this evening at the Beyond Art Gallery.

An old woman in front of a painting,
shrugs, clicks her tongue, and
waves a dismissive hand.

Not for her,
these colors unleashed from meaning,
This unruly riot of pigments.

But, oh dear lady,
it is for me.

Give me this untrained choir,
of colors. They can sing their
nonsense song for me.

Let me see the brushstrokes,
feel the artist's energy,
still vibrating on the canvas.

It is enough for this to exist,
no meaning need be applied,
It is what it is and that is enough.