Artistry of Life

When ere the hallowed Rembrandts walk Have you heard how artists talk? The air is etched with brushstrokes flow And on the swooping swallow goes snatching at the air below Everywhere the sound is written and from the wall where he’s been sitting The wind is calling to the crow with lowered head and folded wings The pen and then the brush in hand, time begins again for him it’s written Flowing light from morning calls and from the forest walls it sings How long, how long have we been waiting for the diamond tapestry? The dew of days comes down silently upon the waiting ground Pure evidence in spider’s web shining pearls of mastery In still silence woven single weaver without sound On we go as Rembrandts animating artistry in life Spreading leaves of tapestry with our lightened pallet knife.