I gazed upon it in both splendor and awe,
Knowing that GOD didn't create what I just saw,
The beauty was created by either a woman or a man,
It proved what GOD didn't create; a woman or a man can.
I then sat down as I too wanted to create
Beauty was in my mind maybe that would be my own fate
I then bought some paint and I grabbed my pencil and a pad
I was going to write or paint which would make my soul glad.
I sat and I pondered, but neither word nor pictures came into my mind
Wonder and aspiration was lost, and that creativity I could not find
I then abandoned my quest with both sadness and frustration
I then realized, GOD and man created with both faith and inspiration.
An Artist doesn't create because they can, they do it because they must
In their veins flows a passion and in their soul there is a lust
They suffer and they hurt, while pain and suffering is their weight
Maybe that's why I can't paint or write, so suffice to say art I cannot create.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem