Timeless

We grasp on to the poets, the artists, the musicians

All of the things soul-filled, raw and sincere

Because how comforting

Are the candid words etched by another tortured mind-

The words that dig deep beneath our bones

Or the transcendent threads stitched between melodies that remind us that

We are not crazy

And not alone.

Those who paint the light of hope into pictures of isolation

Reminding us that masterpieces are found often underneath

The ashes of failure

For a moment we believe maybe there are colours within us that truly are infinite

And at least-

Affirming the beauty in the heartbreakingly fragile, chaotic art of being human.

- bb