It’s as if…
…I’ve been waiting all my life for you.
…I’ve always known you deep within.
…I’ve never really known love before.
It’s as if…
…you read my thoughts before I say them.
…you know my heart without the words.
…you have always loved me –
and I you.
-T
~February 28, 2010
The writer longs for description
The painter craves expression
The sculptor aches for formation
The actor dreams of recognition
and to what end?
For whom do we describe our thoughts and feelings?
From whom do we need to be recognized?
For what do we desire to make form?
For what do we gain recognition?
is it to make the world better?
is it to leave our mark?
Is it possible for our creative angst to be relieved?
-T
~February 28, 2010
