Glory of Art
Look at the fingers playing across the strings of guitar And them synchronizing with the lips over the flute And holding and juggling the bow on violin or fiddle And the fingers dancing on the keys of a piano The tunes, the melody, the music it resonates I can sense a skill, magic, art and song of its greatness. I see a diver diving into the river and floating on it Playing with the tides, flapping the hands and the feet To go with a flow and reach the other end, a skill required And in all this, there is an art and the glory of it. A potter’s hands and its movements with the smell of clay A footballer or cricketer or any player as they play An artists’ pencil or a painter’s brush Into the canvas, follows their hands’ playful way The sun and the moon, the time and the nature Their ritual of ending a night and calling upon a day Everything has a form and a structure of its own Anything golden or silver and the blues or grey Life's an art there, from a birth to ...