Exigent

He plays music
to bring it into being
like birth
and puts out his hands
this way
then that

leaves it alone
gets to it
leaves it again
washes a brush in a wine glass
downs it, seconds flat

then, watches it take form
lets it lead the way –
a mountainscape in colour
its hues push outwards
its ridges bold here
soft elsewhere, another

you wonder if it’s like
playing chess, and
try to see the precision,
or if it’s accident
in his vision

see what it is he shows
without saying
it’s fine to
make it up in your head –
perhaps you wouldn’t know
otherwise where to
let your eyes tread

and it’s not a secret
but you wouldn’t ask
how it feels to colour the world

to revel in the making
and unmaking 
the way colour can unfurl 

each hue a rung upon a ladder
he climbs with ease
like falling upwards

and how he longs for colour now
his fingers itch, 
harder to ignore
a feeling 
stronger 
than it ever was before