Some people say start at the beginning,
let the brush trace the bones,
but what about the messier stories?
The ones that explode outward,
tipping over logic like dominos,
where beginnings refuse to hold still?
Dip into the chaos, shatter symmetry.
Let the colors spill like secrets
from a mouth too vivid to quiet.
Start in the middle if you have to,
start in the corner no one sees.
Let your hands forget the rules,
move as though wildfires taught you.
Do not settle for safe patterns
it’s not a cage you’re building.
If a straight line demands attention,
turn your back and scatter instead.
Creation isn’t a sentence to complete.
Trust the raindrop that never lands straight,
the way roots find cracks in concrete.
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Comments3
Strange how nature creates few straight lines. The meaning of this poem also is not a direct straight line. It bends into metaphor, takes turns into allegory finds form in similes, it flickers through the lines. Nicely worded Gray
Thank You Soren
My pleasure Gray
A deep thoughtful piece my friend
Thank You Norman
most welcome, much enjoyed
Brilliant Grey! I'll write a proper comment when I have time.
- Syd 🍄
Thank You Syd
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