The Storyteller

The Storyteller

 

Like a craftsman,

turning the screw,

I work,

disciplined,

as if creating a magic rug.

 

It takes surrender

a type of leveling

through rumination

to turn the screw

into a bale of hay

and then into a horse.

 

Fed and nourished,

my work becomes riveting, rebellious,

and resisting the conformity

of the roads most traveled.

 

Meandering to the left and to the right

taking in the ocean beyond

at all times.

 

The season is always springtime

with colors of every hue

giving light to the darkened wood.

 

And like a piercing beam

my seemingly imperfect

reflections

become

an eloquence of perfection.

 

A savvy new color

a new colored horse (on a magic rug!)

destroyer of what was

once known or ever seen.

 

The truth of which

is mine to tell.

 

What are you looking for?