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Poem

They asked the old poet why he loved to rhyme, the old artist why painting she chose…
They asked the old dancer why he loved to dance, the old musician why she loved to compose.

They were surprised after asking the question how all their answers were the same.
They didn’t create for fame or fortune…the didn’t do it for acclaim.

In each artist’s mind, once asked, they felt without a doubt…
the words, the music, the dance, the paintings were already inside them 
waiting to get out.

Once the poet opens her mind, her heart and her soul she loses track of time
and as she begins to write…her words begin to rhyme.

Once the painter opens his mind, his heart and his soul he can feel his creativity grow
and as he begins to paint…the colors know where they should go.

Once the dancer opens her mind, her heart and her soul she seems to have a flair
and though her mind begins the dance…her body takes over from there

Once the musician opens his mind, his heart and his soul which, by now you may have gathered is the key
as he begins to write his notes…they find their own harmony.

Could these artists be correct…for they all seem to agree
their art dwells inside of them…waiting to be set free.

And if art inside each of each and every artists dwells
Is if possible that art lives in us as well?

Perhaps inside all of us is inspiration, imagination, and a creativity
waiting to be let out…waiting to be set free.

And if we open up our heart, open up our soul, and open up our mind
I wonder, inside each of us…what kind of artistry we’ll find.

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