An Ever-Changing Dance
At the beginning, it started as some letters
on a page, frustrated hands sweeping the keyboard,
pressing keys at random. When an idea sparks, the entire page
is transformed from blank white snow to a dance
of ink and clouds across the page, detailing
a series of beautiful images.
The critique group tapped
on the images, curious, and they rang empty, nothing
inside, like a hollow crystal lantern. No light,
nothing was seen or found with it.
At the revising table, an orb glitters
among the dull shards, a possibility worth examining.
But the piece is so small and cloudy that its resulting
dance is full of missteps and strange moves
Frustration drops it by the wayside, or buries it deep
in a pocket or a drawer, under a haystack of other papers. The time
to perform comes and it is retrieved, studied, pondered,
screamed at, and finally rewritten, stuttering words finding
their balance again, their dancing steps.
The end is marked. Chair pushed back, eyes examining the creation
to find that somehow, it is not what they saw
at the beginning.