The fleeting idea that yearns for paper
Canvas or to take shape,
Banging on the door of my imagination.
Trembling arms reach out:
A hold not taken
Or a sweet embrace.
And facets fall like snow
Gratefully come to life.
The mania steals in and conquers all resistance
Now is time to leave this post
For the gracious lady will not halt nor heed regret.
Wishing shall not call her back.
To create is to give up.
To make is to surrender.
The curtain of my soul draws back
And on the stage
The shadow of God’s footstep falls.