Poetry/Prose
Who Drew Me up to Be Thus?
A response to Andoumboulou and Vorfreude

Ha! You brought me this gift Now you steal it back Erase the pages Where once I filled in the blanks Tongue to lip in deep concentration Pen articulated the truth Drove me to complete the answers On Life’s questionnaire.
Cruel muse, you sit at the feet of the Great Spirit Plotting my downfall Where once I sought your company For pleasure and conversation, Now you shun me.
Will you convince the Universal Ruler To measure my worth Appraise my ability And find me lacking?
Such is my fear In limbo I create errors and omissions. The tension takes my breath As I await the verdict.
I am empty.
Void of ideas, my barometer drops, The pressure heralds a storm.
“What gift?” a voice thunders, breaking the silence with indignation and amusement.
“Not my muse, but who?” I wonder.
“I am This and That, Here and There, All and Nothing.”
Was I thinking aloud?
“No, but I can read what’s in your head and in your heart. For a start, let me clarify: I don’t hand out gifts. You enter this life with potential and your soul’s quest on this physical journey is to realize it — to make it real.”
“You create your own reality with every thought you think, the language you use and what you believe to be true. If you suppose I sent you a gift then took it away … well, you see where I’m going with this… then so be it.”
“The solution is simple — you decide who you want to be. If your passion so to write, write. When the muse you mention eludes you, know that is your mind playing tricks. Get out of your head and into your heart. Take a break, enjoy a slice of chocolate cake.”
“And watch your language.”
Thanks for being here.
This piece began with a tag I received from James G Brennan — all the way from Thailand to South Africa — thank you!
Read his cosmic story here:
Melissa Bee prodded him with this wonderful poem:
Here is the original prompt from Priyanka Srivastava:






