How public art can save your life

Waterfall

Reassess, review and fall in love
Again, at first, at last,
Half a summer ale on a mound of grass
And we quit 9-5 for art,
To make music again,
To make life more creative,
There’s a start.

A woman younger than the folds of her face,
Her plastic shopping bag crumbled at her waist,
Stoic she wakes to direct a gaze
Out to the curves of the cityscape.

A pint of Novocaine on the brain,
An off-kilter epitome,
A refreshing epiphany,
You’d have to be crazy to live anywhere else,
You’d have to be lazy to settle.

A girl emerges from her fiance’s chest,
Black hair sticks to her dark cheeks,
Half-almond eyes search the air,
Feet shuffling and comfortably bare in the grass,
A glimpse of the lights and back to her nest.

Fireside stories from obsession to production,
Unknown to connection,
Sharp clinging to soft falling,
To subtleties being swayed in the familiar wind.

A little black girl in a pink chiffon dress,
Chases a bleach-blond white boy around the sandbox,
When she catches him they hug, five seconds of rest,
And then resume,
The thrill of the chase.

Here we don't have to try so hard.
We don't have to try at all.

MR



(Picture taken from nycwaterfalls.com)