He takes the brush
full of endless wonders
never runs out of
stories to ignite aflame.

Yet every day he seems
to fall into deep thought
in some other world
where beauty excists
inside a brittle crystal.

The brush, shattering it
to design carefully another
wondrous form of art.

Painter, draws the life
while the composer plays
music for the silky soul.

Poet, writes the lines
of eternal exsistence
while the dancer gives
heart for the movement
Of life.

It grows wild and free
not a delicate rose that needs tending, no
its something that excists even without me
its warmth spreads through us, head to toe
enveloping us in its grasp
it can turn a wise man blind
or crush your lungs gasp

The ancients pondered it's power
others have tried to harness it
compared to most, high above it will tower
it'll transform our days, bit by bit

If more of us tried
not all, but most
it'd spread worldwide
from coast to coast

It grows wild and free
it transforms a day
it lives in you, it lives in me
so cherish it and know it's here to stay