If you’ve ever tried

to write a poem,

paint a picture

or coax anything at all

out of the mystery

and on to the page

you will know

that to pluck a perfect

chord out of thin air

or to land a painting where

moments ago

nothing was there ~

is an art-form of

conjuring-that-has-no-name.

Making apparent what is

hidden, creating something

from nothing -

is to be touched by the gods.

Where does the unsung note live

until the voice shapes it?

Where does the sculpture wait

until the chisel frees it?

Who can see the portrait

until the artist draws it

into being?

Seducing form out

of formless-ness

can feel like a miracle-making

craft reserved for the

divinely deluded.

Until, one day,

a thousand oily rags and broken

pencils later -

a poem a painting or play

leaps out and stares right back at you.

And for that shattering

incandescent moment

you completely and fully

both forget and recognise

yourself

at last

surrendering to the muse,

comprehending that

(possibly) nothing at all

was ever being

made by you.

That verse, sketch,

symphony, or dance

~ all along ~

has patiently

and painstakingly

been re-creating you.

©Liat Lev. Aug 2024