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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