You can draw a concept
A swirl of ideas, a sandstorm
you forget to cover your face
with a scarf.
Or climb a mango tree
your fingers crawl
between the thick leaves
reaching, searching.
It can be immaculate
Sap drips from the maple tree
A pebble, a rock, breaks from the mountain
A cat plays with a ball of yarn.
You can shape yourself
a triangle, camel, crescent,
a child’s yoga pose
or simple lotus.
The muse may come and go
breathe in, breathe out
The muse comes and disappears
breathe in, breathe out.
1 comment:
That is the freedom that comes from having no photos. Very evocative poem. I always tell friends if they only read magazines, even news magazines they miss out on exercising the imagination that comes with a novel.
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