One instrument is not enough
Two languages are unimpressive
The masterpiece is built of bolder stuff
Uninhibited, creative
The painter struggles for new shades
The dancer for his rhythm
The singer climbs each note that fades
The poet pines for what is given
And all I see are endless people
With their talent
Bleeding out
And all I know it’s good to be here
In the moment
Scream and shout
Creative blood boils hot like lava
Bursting forth from chasms deep
It frightens me in all its mystery
Like God arousing me from sleep
I dare not measure with the artists
Their gifts and treasures limitless
I’d rather flicker in the darkness—
Wallow in my shallow mess
For artists so resemble God
In all majestic terror
In fierce design and ground un-trod
They grasp to view His mirror
But I am too reluctant, too lazy and too tame
I falter hoarding all my gifts
As global talent climbs and shifts
I’ll only lust for fame
