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This poem looks at the face of mystery.

Poem: 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

 

©Kenneth Maswabi

 

 

 

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