Opening Blinds In The Dark Poem by W.M. Rivera

Life’s daily gets us up, opening blinds,
asking questions, starting the day’s ‘why? ’
me again, stuck in inspiration’s academics.

Did Richard Hugo trigger a miss not honoring
the muse qua muse? Or is it as Valery claims: ¬
a self superior to the self? Or, a kind of ‘dynasty’

passed down, parent to putty? - Opening blinds
is an easy metaphor - the pull-cords tangle,
the slats hit the wall, questions hang on.

Stepping back from artifice, eyes scan for answers.
Where does it come from, inspiration’s illumination?
The gut? Broca’s area of the brain? Or is it a game?

On a Chinese alp, Han-shan grabs magic from thin air.