Sketch of a Decision

A charcoal sketch
in vanishing perspective

draws me in to the in of myself
where I learn from those without
who happen—hiding in those dark places
to be the sparks I need
t’ave assurance.

O decisiveness,
thou art fickle yet keen.

The sketch
if you should
happen to care
is of the life which
always has been.

The artist rubs his charry palms
and sits beneath his easel.

The way he looks on
you’d think that he
had rendered Notre-Dame
all'way up to the cocksure
golden steeple.

Lovely in the sunrise
his grey mass of shaded shapes.

I do wonder how
it looks to him
in the dark
if it has that spark
of the darkened beatific

that in of oneself
where all about do say:

I wish that I had done it
like you.