Thursday, March 14, 2019

Mastercraft


I look around, it never fails me
His vast canvas, this green globe,
To supply the props for ponders.
I hear a whisper of air, a moist drop on the skin
And look up.
The blue space mocks at my littleness
Then smiles like it was kidding.
The streaks of nimbus put up a show
"There's your cue" they seem to chuckle
Like He was in a mood to play on his canvas
Running his paintbrush dipped in clouds.
His strokes shape shift
Now looking like a dainty Georgette veil
Sneak peeking the gorgeous infinite beyond
Now like a caricature of a flirty dragon
Serenading the crescent.
I trace the creation, devouring the craft
Determined to pay a tribute to His skill
I flatter Him
With a humble imitation.
And make puny tributes
In Mediocre wordage.
Till the little heart beats
And these five senses perform
I vow to sing his praise
Forever in awe
Never getting over the Source that inspires
Gasping, enamored and in complete surrender. 

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