Creating

Maybe - though I do not bleed - I am wounded,
walking along one of the rays of your life.
In the middle of the jungle the water stops me,
the rain that falls with its sky.

Then I touch the heart that fell, raining:
there I know it was your eyes
that pierced me, into my grief's vast hinterlands.
And only a shadow's whisper appears,
Who is it? Who is it?, but it has no name,
the leaf of dark water that patters
in the middle of the jungle, deaf along the paths:

so, my love, I knew that I was wounded,
and no one spoke there except the shadows,
the wandering night, the kiss of the rain.

I didn't write that, of course, Neruda did. If I tried to write it, well, it would just come out all ridiculous and contrived. So I am stealing Neruda's.

I do need to create though. And not just a chocolate cake.

I have gone too long without creating, and its gnawing at me. Making me feel a little wooden and oppressed.

Speaking of which, have you shopped at Etsy? Its a kindler gentler Ebay for handmade items. Its a little hard to make your way through the millions of items, but I love the concept. And I love wandering through the creations of everyday folks.

I think I'll ride the Dawg today.