A Different Perspective

The artist bought his canvas frame, So brilliant, pristine, white, Another chance to increase fame, To share some new insight... Another reason to improve, Exploring pastures new, Perhaps a landscape meant to soothe Or abstract point of view... The artist stared at what he'd bought, Placed on his easel there, He studied it while deep in thought And even said a prayer... Yet brushes stayed unused that day, The paints not mixed or stirred, He merely stared for some delay Brought silence, not a word... No inspiration, there and then, No image in his mind, No revelation once again, No painting meant to find... Until some lucid thought arrived, Formed deep within his heart And so the untouched frame survived, Because he made no start... To him, the brightest white he saw, Was perfect as it was, A precious work of art, yet more, Untainted there because He saw its inborn decency, Its truth made manifest, So why disturb its dignity, The holiness expressed? He took it to his living room To hang it on the wall, Somehow it made the decor bloom, From there down to the hall... Reflecting light to symbolise, God's presence there to stay, A sweet reminder to his eyes, Perspective, so he'd pray...