There he stands, sculpting an image
Of what never was and never will be.
Prodding his disciples to find the way
And cast their lot with the Maker
Who teaches creative art.
They, as they emerge from the cocoon
Which envelops them,
See the light of the breaking day,
Discovering that it requires more than
The simple acquiring of knowledge, but
The laying on of the hands with fervor,
Not in haste but slowly, and with feeling,
To yield their own vision, everlasting.
As they go forth spreading the word,
Those who provided for their early
Sustenance will see the profit of their wisdom
In partaking in this bold experiment that
Rewards all those who seek and find.
Those who pause momentary
As they pass through Life's Gallery,
See Art and Religion intertwined.
Searching; they find
The maker's mark and are rewarded.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mr. Mahtrow, Obviously this is the finest piece of literature ever to grace these paper and silicone halls. Truly a masterpiece to be shared with all of creation. Whew. I like it. Always interesting to see how otheres are decieved by my antics. Or not. I do feel like a jackass after reading it. I only make stuff, the lofty ideals are there, but rarely if ever realized-which is good because I would be done. Always good to have work to do. Thank you for the fine poem. TRRW