The One by My Creative Genius

Let me tell you the tale today
Of the days when I was considered a gift,
We watched the truth turn into a myth
With the onset of Renaissance and social shift.
What am I? You must be wondering:
A sensation, a frenzy, a misfit amidst the norms,
Through centuries across works of literature,
My kind has taken several forms.

Daemons, they called us in ancient Greek
Genius, in the mighty empire of Rome;
We were believed to be guiding spirits
Living in the walls of the artist’s home.
The Finnish worshipped the protector, Luonto,
Whose presence made an individual skilled;
When we parted ways with a breathing soul
It led to a frivolous life with dreams unfulfilled.

I cannot be confined in bodies or vessels,
But you’ll find our depictions through the decades;
Heavenly figures, undefined silhouettes,
Translucent and hazy, with bluish shades,
But I live beyond the realms of physicality.
I begin with thoughts and end with emotions,
The window to every soul like the distinctive iris,
I am the musings and the midnight inspiration.

I am sometimes imagery, sometimes a metaphor,
A drop of syrup in the Poetry Mead,
That Odin fed to his fellow Asgardians
Turning them into scholars indeed.
The grace with which the tribes of Africa
Gather to celebrate their life and dance,
In hopes of conversing with their deceased ancestors
I am present in their euphoric trance.

They demanded proof, scraped my existence,
But isn’t poetry itself magical?
Wonderlands lie hidden from the eyes,
Most intuitions are erratic and irrational.
Nature around and the divinity within,
I inhabit all matter like the spirits Kami,
I am the holy power you summon
When you chant ‘Aham Brahmasmi’.

There was a time when they knew of me,
When art was more celestial than mortal;
Free from rules of this tainted world,
Beyond competitions, success and hurdles.
O humans, you take too much weight,
For creativity can often be a bane;
Spiralling into the well of darkness
Driving even the best among us insane.

Why not sit back and enjoy the ride
As I drive you to different destinations,
An introspection of the feelings within
Or a long voyage to a foreign nation.
So I tell you about our tale today
For the world has seemed to have forgotten us,
Who am I? If you are still wondering,
I am the writer of these rhymes—
Your creative genius.

Written by Ankita Ghosh for MTTN

Featured Image by Jenrita Castelino for MTTN