Inspiration

I was unaware, and I opened my eyes, the door, and my mind
Suddenly the glass door, that one that closes by the force of an overstretched spring
slowly condensed with the cool wet breeze of an early morning.

I witness how the translucent becomes opaque; slowly, sublime,
I didn’t move, holding a bag in my hands, I felt light, ready.
The air was cold, with anticipation and hope.

I touched the fragile cover of watery consistency,
And my finger was the brush; the door the canvas.
And in sense and spirit, I marked a path.

Slowly, unstoppable, it created, shaped and ran.
The shapes, the art, was all there, being born,
And I witnessed what I knew wouldn’t last

My eyes filled with possibilities, my hands were wet
The lines changed, the circles joined, and it was mine
My work of art, of inspiration… my piece of mind

Just like I imagined as a child, tears were from heaven
The condensation gave up, and erased the tales
Those that I made up in my head and that my finger brought to life

I step back, half of what it was, was already gone
I looked, and smiled, thankful and aware
Of the gift that I allowed myself to get.

The gift of sudden,
The beauty of fragile
The privilege of a stolen smile.

The tears of condensation.
The ones that were from heaven,
Now running in my eyes.

SDIH (05/29/2008)