Seeing Your Art

Clouds full of prose;

smiles speaking lines

translated in my tears

they’re quite sublime.

Question my judgement,

I’ve been there many

times before you defeat

fear and solve calamity.

My conscience considers

where I should proceed.

As I take in now slowly

your words spoken to me.

My prying eyes they do

open at enlightenment.

Shinning like the hot sun

and crashing lightning.

Where do predilections

in you friend come from?

You’re a quiet soul but

your art is as if a drum.

Keeping beat I think I’ll

take a seat to enjoy wine.

I find my prior perceptions

of you were so very blind.

What is this thing I see

before my very eyes you

are an artist so gifted my

concepts of life they grew.

Up into the sky I writhe

with brand new seen eyes

that see what I never tried

to understand was supplied.

Crashing thunderous cloud,

of which I witnessed proud,

here now I wish to surround

me with your found sound.

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