The artist’s heart hears music
In the silent things
Like flowers of Spring
And clouded sky
The growth of a tree
As time goes by
They need their muse
Like the artist craves
Their inspiration
A symbiotic relation
Where spirit meets the world
And lovely tender things
Are mystically unfurled
To reason and conscience
Not forgotten
But captured
In a song to sing
A painting to savor
A verse to remember
That make the beauties of the world
Last that much longer