from May The Artists Be Forgiven

Hilary Peach

how we all love hot weather

but the skies have to open up sometimes

and when they do

may the rain come down in cataracts

and lash us to the ground

may the storms rip through us

may the weak trees be pulled up by their roots

and the wind scare us senseless

 

forgive your artists their savage appetites

their barbaric temperments and tempestuous moods

forgive them their vision, wisdom, sanctity and truth

their turbulent relationships and untidy appearance

their refusal to compromise

their gentleness

their hard-loving ways

their tangled logic and unruly opinions

their beauty

their  delirium

and their disrespect

for common, tepid answers.

 

© Hilary Peach 2010