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.
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