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ıllıllı Listen to this poem
Close your eyes and feel the red—
that’s what I do now
A lizard recharging itself,
cell by cell soaking up all the rare energy
The color starts out a light orange
before quickly deepening into a bright fire engine hue
Ripples of light dance on the surface,
like sunlight on water
These days, simply leaving the house can feel like a herculean accomplishment,
as if I need a reason to put one foot in front of the other
— like something to buy
or someone to see, for instance —
But a simple walk can yield surprises
and the sun is reason enough
My thoughts dance around like the flickering red
movie screen saturating my lids
Sitting still with them,
that might be the hardest part
Humans, ladies and gents,
complicating even the simplest of tasks
Always finding new mountains to climb,
inventing new problems to solve
Come back to the red
Take it
A shock of vitamin D
straight to your system
Direct — unlike the inspiration that now needs to be
coaxed out through sheer will and discipline
I believe it was the ancient Greeks who credited their creative failures and successes to muses,
those mysterious forces of creative inspiration
Takes the pressure off,
doesn’t it?
Muse, oh muse, where art thou?
How can I call you back?
Give me something to feel,
to say, wash me clean of my sins
Because, I must confess:
I often write with the intention to share
A sign of attention or validation seeking? Perhaps
Or maybe it’s just about wanting to create and feel seen
In the same way that I close my eyes to see the sun,
the poem then is the moment of opening
A question, gently posed,
Did you feel it too?