The Creator
Why do I create?
The simple answer involves
the complex mystery of
creation~ the more knowable answer
is, I am lonely...needing something,
someone outside of myself
to bring back in, to hold close for to cherish
and love.
I would not write a word,
dabble a blotch, were my hunger entirely satisfied
by the works of others; were all my questions
answered and my dreams already portrayed into infinity –
I create because I have a sense of loss, of being
incomplete – I create because
I am dissatisfied with the status quo.
I create not to feel a sheep-driven-reactionary,
and more a green in God's garden of unlimited potential,
salivating for moments of sensed eternal blossoming...
The novice writes a poem,
while the poet writes poetry. The painter only
paints, while the artist creates an image, that lives
immortal in the realms of observation. And I create
for all these reasons – and, most of all~ those
shared joys I have not found outside the process.
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