Free Fall Painting

I stare at the photo

but my hand

takes on

a mind of its own

 

It won’t listen to

what my eyes see,

refuses to connect

to my logical mind

 

What I think I see

doesn’t transmit

to the strokes

falling on the page

 

Something else

takes over my hand

forming their own shapes

similar, but not quite like the photo

 

I’m in free fall

as the painting seems to

dictate where to move

my hand

 

I can’t stop

and can’t tell

what is me

and what is the painting

 

Suddenly it lets me go

I back away

from the easel

 and look back

 

Its unique voice

echoes through me,

not in real words, pleading,

“Make me, create me”

 

But once my logical mind

kicks in

the moments are passed and

the self-questioning begins.