We Will Leave His Sanctuary Untouched
Inspiration reaches out and grabs him before breakfast
He lives colors and patterns the way the rest of us breathe
Misunderstood and misused, he worries not about it.
This life means nothing; he survives on his own planet far away.
Keen imagination provides him with people, events, reasons to live.
We stayed away, for he is a bit mad, isn't he?
Anyway, he has no need of conversation or ordinary.
His mind is extravagantly unique, he is satisfied.
His paintings hold his interest. They hold him captive.
He is more obsessive compulsive than bumblebees.
He will be found some day lying among his cherished canvases
With a hardened paint brush in his non-yielding stiffened hand.
We will spend no time in here, for it will feel like a violation.
His sanctuary, his world, his nirvana, his art studio.
We will leave it undisturbed until he reincarnates as a better artist.
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