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

of unknowing

where we realize

the creation.

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?

10 thoughts on “The Creation of Art

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