The hands of the Artist,
emissaries of the mind –
separate from all musing
and aspiration.
What can be imagined,
what must be created,
from the heart upward
flowing into thoughts
downward streaming
to hopeful, colored hands.
The hands of the Artist
makes visible the width,
and breadth and depth
of expressive imagination
while paint-stained fingers
creatively caress canvases,
illuminating and breathing life
into the visceral void.
What remains are not
the hands of the Artist.
What remains is enduring
grandeur and grace;
the blessing of the soul
the echoes of the heart,
a gift for future generations.
What remains is truth;
his inspired vision,
her lasting legacy.
