This Art

This art is vague, has no need to define itself. It looks all around itself, and away from itself, to wherever there is that it can look to. And as it looks away from itself, and refuses boundaries, it returns to itself in comfort. This being so, then it is a particular truth, if only a simple truth, unimposing, free to give, and dominating no-one. So then, I believe, that it is open to love, and most certainly interpretation, and it is open to opinion. It doesn't rely on embrace. It is something of an oddity in the way of life. This art stands on its own, and is lonely, and doesn't care. This art, is unreality within reality, and reality within unreality, It is weak, yet it is strong, and knows that it doesn't have to answer to anyone. And then it is strong, but will not take its strength anywhere out of itself. And the word 'art' doesn't even have to be, because so many people will subscribe to it, even unknowingly. So if art is not art, perhaps it could be God.