(so, no use of “apostrophe,” not really finished. I think it needs to be rewritten but here it is anyway)
Ode To One of My File Drawers
A beautiful pencil drawing, so precise with pretty shapes
Done long ago by whom I do not know.
Unfinished necklaces, colorful beaded ones.
In separate bags inside you
but they lie next to each other in you.
Hello today, Flat file drawer, labelled
art therapy and A-H…
You are deep, wide and expansive despite your small height.
Even some altered books, still small enough to fit.
Lots of mandalas partly colored in.
Sometimes a mask is in your roomy home.
These visitors are temporary, but they tend to stay a long time.
There are pictures with words, private things, poems too. You can
hold them all and you keep their secrets.
An unfinished ream catcher made with wire and neon pipe cleaners,
An intention written on a purple piece of paper
says, “I will do things that make me happy.”
This one is for everyone in the drawer and me too.
Even though I don’t see it and had forgotten about it,
It is a big part of art therapy;
helping people find things to do that make them happy;
Both in session and in daily life.
That makes me happy. I am happy some of my own artwork
done with another person is in your vastness too.
You are filled with so many kinds of feelings, dark and light;
You hold depression and anxiety, secrets and shame,
You hold hope and happiness, creativity and loss,
You are Rumi’s guest house, receiving anything that comes,
Watching all sorts of things leave.
You are Dr. Seuss’s waiting room of Art.