The Danger of Perfection
The creator stepped back from the painting
realizing that he had shaped
something outrageously perfect.
Slowly he understood
that all else now would be
just a prelude or a footnote to this.
There would be no sequel.
His elation soon led to gloom.
What was he thinking, drinking, or smoking,
when perfection bloomed under his fingers?
He tried to replicate that magic moment,
but that inspired instant always alluded his grasp.
In the end, he let the canvas and the light
take the credit,
he was merely the hand that held the paintbrush,
but what held his hand?
After much meditation he dropped the brush.
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