If you draw, unleash that pencil and bring life to the page. More of a painter, perhaps? Then summon that stubborn blank canvas, find that indolent brush, and fill that white world with the eye's music. But maybe it's song, not color, that swirls in your imagination. Become one with your instrument of choice, flow with the pitches and rhythms, and exhale the soul's voice. Even gardeners and cooks, laboring in the soil or near the flame, can harvest the mind's wondrous magic: to transform dirt into paradise, to convert eggs into a feast. Delve within and unearth the wings of creation. Take flight in a remarkable sky, as this poet has done while carving his words.
If you draw,
unleash that pencil and bring life to the page.
More of a painter, perhaps?
Then summon that stubborn blank canvas,
find that indolent brush,
and fill that white world with the eye's music.
But maybe it's song, not color,
that swirls in your imagination.
Become one with your instrument of choice,
flow with the pitches and rhythms,
and exhale the soul's voice.
Even gardeners and cooks,
laboring in the soil or near the flame,
can harvest the mind's wondrous magic:
to transform dirt into paradise,
to convert eggs into a feast.
Delve within and unearth the wings of creation.
Take flight in a remarkable sky,
as this poet has done
while carving his words.