Why is it that every time I create something I panic that it is the last time I will ever create? Will this be the last poem I ever write? The last song I ever sing?
What is the creation of art but …
A narrowing of winding roads
leading to unnamed destinations?
A taming of the ruthless wild —
a guardrail on unforeseen emotions?
A beauty that hides the chaos,
but makes the truth be seen?
A grieving tree that’s frozen,
but surprises us by blooming?
A flourishing of harmony
of life in volcanic death?
A mesmerizing flower
that leads us on a new path?
A pruning of the jagged hedges,
a corralling of the lawless pastures?
An uprising of hearts impassioned,
a feeling expressed in lines & colors?
Maybe I needn’t worry
about if I’ll create again.
Maybe it’s in the beauty
where we realize
Writing & photography by: Katy Claire Funke
All photos were taken on the Kula Highway in upcountry Maui, HI.
This poem was inspired by Francisco Bravo Cabrera’s post on What is Art?