A Song For the Spirit of Creativity

where will i find her? i will find her hiding inside a triangle humming, bent over and sewed into my many great grandmother's signature buried, saved for the hungriest of winters like a swan passing white with long leaps shapeless spirit who keeps herded colors locked inside her bone tooth box stars on either side the sweetest prayers work best with tears i will go crying in to the night red all over i will go dangling my song howl for dawn creativity you told me to come! my woman drummers drumstick is stored, come straight a thick and sticky swaddle for my dream children for all the ideas in my mind help me hear me i am afarid of this silent birth geometric babies overwhelming strength in words i believe in the cloud you float in over me my needle my thread my fingers this earth paint every single sight and all the words combined some say you are dead gone with the rest of our world hoop ha! i see you in the water where you breath in the screams of wishes woman who you collect drop by drop by drop woman whose skill is not enough for you women whose minds are not yet open spirit i am aware that you presented yourself to me in my mind world last night and i am here to sing to this song to beg and plead for you to pity me prove the story my grandmother heard while inside her mother about rainstorms that bled glass beads shapes rhythm a steady flow it all fell into my palm only one woman every thousand years here i am it is me shapeless spirit you offered me the power to create i accept