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AN ARTIST IS CREATED
I believe some people are born artists
to be an artist…they are fated…
while in others, not so destined, an artist is created:
She gave her parents a portrait she had drawn
a portrait of her family…
The three of them smiling, holding hands
next to their house and a tall green tree.
She had filled her page with color
they thought…what a beautiful sight
from the individual green blades of grass
to the yellow sun…shining bright.
“It’s so beautiful!” Her parents said.
“You even captured our expressions!”
From the moment she gave it to them
it became a prized possession.
For a while it hung on their refrigerator
for their friends and family to see.
ehere they would marvel at her choice of colors
and her use of symmetry.
Until the day her parents took it down
and joyfully exclaimed,
“This is such a beautiful piece of art…it’s time to get it framed.”
It has hung on their wall ever since.
Even now when their daughter visits she’s elated…
as she remembers that day…
all those years ago
when an artist was created.
Beautiful, endearing. It
Beautiful, endearing.
It makes me think of the urge, one I know that many poets have felt, to be down on their older, "lesser" writings, and sometimes even disgard them. But, much like this drawing, even truly more primative writes of the poet were telling their own creation story ; )
Very much enjoyed this read and the reflection it brought about.