how often
have we heard what a picture
is worth how the artist with pastel blemish
and blush is able to transcend poets imagination of
such & how many times have I heard about this poet
or that gifted with silver words and golden pen and
how they eclipse the artist touch by simply
applying some mottled laurels with
ascetic splash darkened
ink and a little
creativity

and come... tell me how is it they
so easily parch our hearts with spiritual visions
lulling within the wells that leap through minds window
& race along synaptic tangled lines splashing passions
spice on a riotous littoral tide that sends neurons
arcing to embrace the gestalt of
visions reverie

for a terse instant
we approach the concise
arcane and gaze through their
eyes reading their thoughts as
clairvoyant breakers swell in
urgency wiling about still
embraced in our
initial skim
and..

we’re
soaked left on
the edge of their creation