The Artist, The Muse, & The Monologue
Come art, come art, wherever you are…
Art…are you out there?
You scare me.
Intrigue me.
Overwhelm me.
Calm me.
Love me.
Bestow upon me a great power.
Where oh where art thou my one and only inspiration? You are my other half.
Mi media naranja.
My everything.
My worst enemy. Wait.
Are you?
No.
We are each one’s beloved.
Yes.
That’s more like it.
What do you think of you?
The way you are forming, flowing,
shape-shifting from one word to another,
yes, do you see it all unveiling?
In these few moments,
as we journey together,
it is unnerving, yet unraveling before me.
You make your appearance
and I am happy to see,
and I am afraid,
but I trust in something beyond
you,
beyond
me,
so I can
watch and wait
to see
what you will become,
what you will turn out to be,
how you will represent me.
Are you me?
No.
But I see you. And you see me.
We simply know…
You come from within me.
Like a baby,
a seed I have been nourishing,
quietly,
without full understanding
and comprehension
and finally the moment arrives.
I give birth to you
and there you are,
fresh and new,
pure,
completely open and vulnerable,
yet untouchable.
Wisdom tells me to release you,
to let you flourish on your own.
How will you be seen?
That is not my concern.
You are part of me
yet
separate.
I am a channel. Simply.
Respectfully.
You are your own masterpiece.
As I am too.
