Blessed unrest,

the nest

in which

The Artist

all ways

seems to

reside.

Here,

she strives

to refine

define

design

that which is

ineffable

intangible

deeply spiritual;

that which dances

mysteriously,

provocatively

in her Head

then spreads

quickly

urgently

to her

fervent

Heart;

that which is

commonly

referred to as

one’s art.

A blessing

and a curse,

this art.

No clear end,

nor definitive start.

In its birthing,

both joy and pain,

moments crystal clear,

moments utterly insane.

Riddled with

insecurity

frustration

and doubt

throughout,

The Artist

stays the course

no matter the costs.

She simply must

and trust

in something

higher;

something

beyond

her.

For, she is but

the mere vessel,

a human conduit

through which

the insistent art

grows and flows,

and then

into the world

it goes.

Where it lands,

The Artist

is not

to know.

Not her concern

to this learn.

She’s done her part,

releasing the art.