Paul Klee
I paint in order not to cry,
Each brush stroke a rebirth,
A fresh start until the last,
And a death occurs,
Who am I?
I draw in order to survive,
Each flick of the pencil or pen,
A glimpse of understanding,
An acceptance within,
Before one’s thoughts revive.
I write in order to escape,
From my own suffering,
A word from a sonnet or verse,
An opportunity to rehearse,
A feeling of belonging.
I create in order to exist,
For a moment as intended,
Before native patterns insert,
A coiling of clay
And one’s identity insists,
I dance in order not to die,
An ancient rhythm which reminds
One to stay here and now
A second more feeling profound
And then elapse again one more time
Who am I?
