Where Do Our Creations Go?
To barren or fertile minds
Smaller than a speck of dust,
invisible to the human eye
many creations bite the dusk —
lost forever in the black hole of this meta hole,
it’s ravenous.
Never refusing,
always accepting more,
space less, boundary less — a universe of its own
comprising the pieces of our creations
formed out of ideas that have no beginning or end.
Press send,
and away the baby goes,
conceived in the head and birthed in the belly,
taking with it a piece of our soul.
Godspeed, we whisper and we wave it off,
hoping that it will find a place in someone’s heart.
Author’s note:-
Often I wonder where my creations go when I press the send, publish or share button. Was it so small, so insignificant, that it only became part of the many zeros?
I prefer to believe that it falls on fertile ground, a willing seed to be watered and nurtured, eventually growing into a mighty oak of sound words.
Is this the case, I do not know but I will continue to believe that it is so.
© Ilis Trudie Palmer 2022
One Love
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I am author to two books of tiny stories, Chronicles of an Awakening Soul (2021) and Let the Sun Shine on My Face (2022); both are available here.
