My mind is a museum
But I haven’t enough time
To examine each piece thoroughly
I always see the big picture
I understand the vision and meaning
But when I get closer to the painting
It’s completely different
There’s a tremendous amount of detail
In textures and colors
It’s too overwhelming, overstimulating
Why am I pacing myself so quickly?
Running through the halls,
Images flashing and disappearing
There is no time limit
Or rule of how close you get
So why am I acting as a tourist?
There’s a treasure trove of art here
That’s all mine to inspect
But I struggle to conceptualize
How all these small dots, globs, and strokes of paint
Accumulate to something so large,
Beautiful,
and meaningful
