When An Artist Paints

It's not the art that he sees It's the colours that gives his story clarity When a poet writes It's not his (her)thoughts that begs for meaning It's the meaningless of meaning that forms his thoughts It's the branch of hope that gives him a bird's eye view It's the path of faith that illuminates the face of existence It's the pedestal of Love that gives him courage To tread on the field of nothingness And undress the hidden secrets When an artist paints It's not the bright colours that dominates his mind It's the mixture of colour, contour and contrast that defines his art When a poet writes It's not the colour of skin or religion or culture that stand on his way It's the fibre of being that opens his path It's the clarity of being that attracts his thoughts It's the fearlessness and the madness That dresses his poem with beautiful thoughts When an artist paints He is unconsciously conscious Deep in the land of art When a poet writes His dream is the reality that is unreal His poem holds the fibre of meaning Inside the realm of poetry But his poem may sound meaningless Inside the world of meaning When an artist paints He does not want to show you his (her)heart He only wants you to see your own heart If he can achieve this magical fit He is a master artist When a poet writes He is totally unaware of your heart But he writes about your heart Sometimes he holds your heart Inside his own being So that he can be you or her or him or us or anything If he can achieve this magical fit He is a spirit poet ©