(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

What One Creates

Not one to inspect,
Over another's collection.
To brush quickly through...
With reviews or suggestions.

I realize the pain it takes...
To select what will be saved,
By refurbishing what is accepted...
And tossing away,
What doesn't make the grade.

I can't be the critic,
To make that choice.
Although I feel forced,
For an opinion to voice!

I much rather watch,
Portraits hung!
I know what it takes to get to that place.
For seconds it may take
To critique...
The lifetime of one that completes,
From a nothingness...
To what a 'nothingness' can become!

And to observe without effort...
The skills it takes to get this done,
I am not so unwise to realize...
What one creates,
And what 'that' takes...I appreciate.

Unlike some,
Who are please to critique!
With eyes that are fast,
And feet quick to run!
If emotions aren't instantly attached...
Or imaginations unused are fused,
To conform with those with none!

I choose to be 'there! '
In the 'moment'...
To observe and be aware.
With a patience I enlist.
Knowing creativity shared like this...
And on display,
Deserves much more...
Than my quips without wit!

Or thoughtless comments made...
As if my pleasure to judge what's produced,
Will boost a huge ego...
I'm already trying to reduce!

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

So is the dilema.... we read our work and wonder if its good enough... then we read someone else and our doubts grow. But what goes... do we cull because of votes or comments or some inner critic... the dilema. Alison