The work of art that emerges where we leave the place of interiority and reenter the visible world may be something tangible or it may take the form of a special kind of life, a life that is in itself an art. The sharing or the communication, in whatever form that may take, is the essence of the creative act. But the seed begins to germinate in aloneness and in silence.
Precious memories, unseen angels,
sent from somewhere to my soul;
how they linger, ever near me,
and the sacred past unfold.
Precious memories, how they linger,
how they ever flood my soul,
in the stillness of the midnight,
precious, sacred scenes unfold.