Art Therapy Poem by Bree Z Love

A radical style to healing, I chose.
The feeling of the essential
for freeing the minds chaos.
Without it, its a warlike lost.

Shattered fragments of glass on the floor.
Once above the mirror
hung; holding a whole image of before.
Stood a child portraying norms.

Now, seeking hidden places to be exposed and explored
by hands of hero and/or heroine.
Wanting to reset panels.
Soothe seeking hands of glass blowers
form heat for peace seekers.
Released in therapy.
Feel the release bursting,
A healing;
alas creating.
In such genius, collaborating
of the mind and soul captivating.
Alas, a masterpiece;
no more shattered pieces.