who enticed your inside out
who whispers you’re not done
pick up the brush, the pen
tie on interesting shoes
put fingers to keys
remember to sing
who dances,
just behind your eyes,
“it’s there, it’s there
let’s focus on something internal
perhaps a soul
perhaps not yours”
when the pen, brush, fingers feet voice
finally fail,
thank the who of yes, yes and yes
and claim what newly breathes