Sometimes goes beyond the Artist, himself,
It is not a question of education,
But of Illumination,
A type of Sainthood,
An unexplainable Inspiration,
Explodes! Into True artistic creation,
That is born Suddenly!
Without, hesitation
And I believe that in this Miracle,
Lies the unanswered Mystery,
Of All Creation.
Makes you a Person,Respect, you will earn.
Words can create visions,That grow and then stay,The dance of celestial spheres,Remains programed in the sky,Telescopes peer into the distant darkness,Always trying to discover,The next miracle of creativity,That will be born from,The artist’s imaginative, cry,Forever feeling the elusive, Why?
Pink rose, graySomehow,Not totally happyBut not with frown,I enjoy,A welcomed ivory towerWhere none can hurt meOr blow me down,Except for TimeThe greatest EnemyOf life’s crown.
Not paved by human hands,But by Hearts,That feel for other Hearts,Compassion.
Unforgettable rose,You forever want to keep,I look not to the pastNor live, the presentFor without you,All I do is weep.
Trees still standing, they do die,But we poor mortals, we just cry.
