Trompe l'oeil

Detail from Ginevra de' Benci, Leonardo da Vinci

You had me at, Is this real, 

or is it enchantment?

But the source of that question 

is a doubt that gnaws 

at your sinew.

Somewhere inside the emptiness

that consumes every void, there is

a fullness that shrieks 

with necessity.

One can think up

conjure

imagine

whatever one wishes,

And,

In one’s mind

it will be real.

But there are no imaginings 

without witchcraft.

And there are no legends 

without illusion.

And there are no graces

without the unutterable, first.

And there are no set formulas—

Or, are there?

I challenge you.

And judge you.

Yet, here I sit,

in the belly of a thirsty canyon,

staring at a silent and empty sky,

Shedding my Patience of Job,

Exchanging peace for agitation,

Glaring with expectation.