There is a heat within a creative,
A golden core,
Cultivated by quills and easels,
Stoked by pokers of artistic intent,

It’s a kiln,
But in place of flames,
A conflagration of purpose,
There are constellations of mental images,

Nebulae of inkblots,
And verse on the tails of comets,
A sun exploding held in stasis,
A masterpiece created piecemeal.

Comments
  1. Amazing imagery. Wonderful homage to the creative spirit.
    I love your lines:
    “It’s a kiln,
    But in place of flames,
    A conflagration of purpose”
    Quite profound.

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