As humans, we are wired to create and not consume. And that’s why when we create a piece of art, we feel alive. This poem is a tribute to the struggle of creating something out of nothing. 

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Years ago, you lifted your eyes
to see if anyone loved what you wrote.
You searched their quiet gaze,
to see if they understood your scribbles,
the way you once searched for stars
through childhood windows.

Your small hand wrote in dyslexia,
waving your pencil with delight,
like daddy’s shaving foam,
dancing back and forth
as if caught in its own deliberate thought.

Those first four letter words —
gifts etched by your eager hands
had taught you to be KIND,
to show LOVE,
and to carry HOPE.

And now, before you write,
you stare at green leaves,
waiting for them to leave you a muse,
as if inspiration, like money,
could grow from trees.

You try to tell yourself:
I will write tomorrow,
when the emotion is fully formed.

At the cafe, thinking too hard
makes you stare through people,
while the pen between your teeth
and the blank notebook
standby to be summoned.

When you reread her poetry,
Mary Oliver asks you again:
“Tell me, what you plan to do
with this one wild and precious life?”

And so you sit up straight,
wring your hands.
But the weight of silence,
makes you wonder,
Can darkness be a gift?

This silence that’s so violent —
can it be a precursor to words yet unborn?

In the name of poetry,
you begin with no punctuation,
with sham gravitas,
like the still pond that belies
a secret kingdom under its glass.

Finally, when words do come,
they pour like a storm,
leaving you desolate,
dragging their weight to the finish line.

Don’t let others judge
before they actually do.
This poem is only for other poets anyway,
who are hungry to write better than you.

Be bold.
Let this story be told.
Tomorrow, it may outlive you.

Riding high on dopamine,
this world scrolls endlessly on tiny screens.
But, you’ve peeled away from your phone,
long enough to put your pen to paper.

You have made a poem.
And in that, you have already found your gift.