John Anderson Poet Lyric

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The Art of Being

Art is doing.
Painting is for seeing.
Music is for hearing.
Poetry is for saying.
Cooking is for tasting.
Feeling is for touching.

But being is a stranger beast.
It is not self-expression.
It is self-discovery.
It is slow, gentle, unhurried,
timeless unfolding into becoming,
in a quietly murmured mantra to self:
 
Who is asking, and why?
Who is this presence, restless and tense,
yearning for acquiescence, 
beckoning for acquaintance?

Being is a verb disguised 
as a noun or two— 
silence
existence, 
omniscience,
a mystery in plain sight,
a listener,
ever inclusive,
and receptive— 
an awareness listening to self.

The art of being is
to exist concurrently
as both the creator, and the creation,
sculptor and stone
painter and canvas 
audience and song
recipe and meal
beat and heart
thought and mind
seeker and sought
question and answer
a spirit and a soul
present in tense, 
yet timeless.
An enlightened
accompaniment 
to itself.

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