Today we have a poem from a good friend of the Epyllion, Tyla Cohen. Tyla is a UWF English major with multiple minors in other fields. Tyla has been published by the Troubadour, UWF’s annual collection of poems, fiction, and art pieces, and we’re happy to put some of the same great work on the Epyllion.
As a writer, Tyla likes to create fantastical worlds where characters drive to story and magic is common yet awesome. Today, we have a poem which, while not as overtly magical as Tyla’s preferred work, is still fantastic.
A Thought of a Thought
The world is a canvas, but humans are not the painters,
The unspoken rulers of the blank space are not us,
For we are the paint, the picture, the idea, the exhibit.
I am a swish of the brush, long after the piece has begun,
An afterthought of an echo, the first stroke long forgotten,
The artist uncredited and misnamed, standing back
From the work that has been created, watching the
Colors shift and move beyond what the artist believed
Should have been done. The edges of the canvas
Are not the edges of the piece, sprawling unevenly
Across the way, spattering and splashing on the
Unwitting walls. The world cannot be contained,
Nor controlled, nor chained in this way.
I am but a stroke of color, a thought of a thought,
Yet I am not alone.