Marijuana can help
But is by no means a sure thing

Alcohol is useless
At least for this purpose

Prayer is performative
And muddies the waters

Friends are sometimes
But often better for laughter
Or tears

Love-making is brilliant
Too brilliant perhaps for clarity

Poetry is helpful
And sometimes lights the path

Oh how I wish I could write
Of meditation
Contemplation
Reading the mystics
Even walking through a woods
Or a field
Wading a stream
Watching deer or birds
Or even our dog

Oh how I wish my world would come clear
In grand and glorious style
The wonder of many
The envy of all

But I just sit quietly on the sofa
Beside my husband
Usually, he works a jigsaw puzzle
On his i-pad
Sometimes he draws
Or listens to a podcast 
About woodworking
Landscaping
Trees
Or the environmental crisis

He always sits on my right
So that his good left ear
Is between him and me
But we don’t talk much

I read, or listen to a podcast
Or dabble in acrylics
With children’s paints
On my lap
Deliberately resisting the impulse
To buy proper artist tools
I let myself play with colors
On small canvases
With brushes and knives
Steel wool and cotton balls
Toothbrush and cotton swap

The canvas may get confused
But the world comes clear