creativity., Philosophy, poetry, psychology

Creativity is the origin of love, scientific discovery, coolness in crisis, why genius has been mystified as a “birthright”, “star” or destiny. Perhaps the star Persian sages followed to Jesus’ cradle revealed not divine birth but life’s promise of light if we are true to our creativity? All scales of estimation of honor, money and influence disappear with us. Success is an arrangement between mortals. Our hidden nihilism is the font of tragedy and comedy; truth and its negation.

Truth in exile will eventually discharge its light and power. Its profile haunts our shadows. As a slender spiral of smoke swirls to the sky born aloft by angry winds we’re thundered from our nests: hallways, dining room table, desk, the bed of our dreams and nightmares – to face a startling finale: the end of our exile. The thunder’s all bluster but if we bring the lightning down and let it spread across the page of our future we can leave our past to open a cloudless sky. We mourn our past in ashes until we face our future’s phoenix. What does the light foretell? Peace will come with truth only. For beauty sleeps with the power released when we die to be reborn — in freedom.


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