Does a paintbrush try and press itself? Or a fisherman cast to feel his own strength?

No.

Likewise, does a moon know when its been idealized by the idealistic pen? Again and again.

Not likely.

Can you see through the colors of your own eyes? Or hear the kissing secrets of the wind on its lovers lips?

No, thankfully not.

And in choosing can you pull thought from mind? With an ease which sets you free to be taller than trees and freer than snow.

Sadly it is with me, when I say no.