Travel thru our History
And whatever,
Is good in us
Was born mysteriously
As were the Stars,
Luminosity desired,
Luminosity, inspired
By some kind of
Miracle,
Translated into, poems
And works of art.
You can’t create,
Without sincerity or love,
Inspiration isn’t enough
For all things, truly human
Were discovered, recovered
Sculpted into some great Poem
Or some illustrious Work of Art,
Creative Anatomy,
Is the revelation
Perhaps, the explanation
Of what, in this tormented life
Sets us apart,
Continuity, civilization
Creativity, donation
A touch of the divine,
In every heart.