Playing God

Image source: fromoldbooks.org

It’s by accident

That I discovered

I am an artist.

I want my work

To be just so,

not a line here

not a line there.

I don’t have time

for others’ ideas

in my work. It’s my

Creation and let me

have the freedom

to do it my way.

It’s a work of art

after all and not

the day’s work.

“All my life

I have swallowed

Your irritations

And carpings.”

Agreed, but aren’t

Artistes to be pampered?

Every detail has to be in place,

if it has to fetch appreciation.

The purpose of art is to

imitate God in controlling

One’s creation. My life’s story.

A yellow leaf

I thought the yellow leaf

Would fall off by itself.

It’s clinging, hanging on amidst

The fresh tender green shoots.

Something is born;

The yellow refuses to bow out – one day it will.

‘You need, not patience, but grace’, I tell myself.

The life that you helped bring into this world

Suffered its own disappointments

And you could not bear it. The young bounce back,

But you cling to the pain that was.

‘How could it happen to me, to us?’

I can’t get the yellow out of my mind.

The pain brought you closer to life, grace it.

Everything in its own time, as death smiles through creation.