From the time of our first breath…from the moment our life starts
we begin creating, until we die, an unfinished work of art.
Some days we are an artist…we wake up and set our sights
on painting with broad brush strokes in colors bold and bright…
Some days we are a sculptor… hoping at the end of that day
after chiseling, carving and smoothing…we are happy with our clay.
Some days we are a composer…searching for the notes that will add harmony
to the notes already written in our life-long symphony.
Wednesday, February 5, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: art,inspiration