By Sam Yau
You don’t know me,
but I’ve known you for eons.
I follow you, life after life,
to awaken the artist in you.
I am the part of you
that is moonstruck by romance,
awed by the sunset’s glory,
beguiled by the beauty of a poem,
entranced by African drumming.
I was never born.
I will never die.
Until the day
you stare down death’s eyes,
become fearless,
you can’t know me
and live your art.
It is I who
swirls in dervishes,
stomps in flamenco,
improvises in jazz.
I am the primal sensual,
your carnal pleasure.
I am the titillating passionate,
your happiness.
Intellect relinquishes its grip
when I step onstage,
your body under my spell,
you and your art become one.
Awestruck and breathless,
time pauses,
all else vanishes.
What remains—
the eternal moment of joy
you long to return to
again and again.
I am your Duende,
your soul.
Painting by Olena Zavakevych