A SINGLE ARTIST
Josephat S. Hema
Out of Miry Clay,
He creates potteries of living thoughts,
They swiftly take dynamic shapes,
So tangibly,
They sprout wings,
And fly to the cold poles,
To counter rotate the Earth,
And make it shake so mightily.
He will madly choose a pen,
Over a limousine,
For a limo doesn’t fly,
Neither does it dive,
But a pen creates life,
It breathes unsearchable wisdoms,
Never does it need diesel to create wonders.
An inked brush,
Is a horse of miracles, wonders and influence?
When he closes his eyes,
His mind will take him to Space,
He will dance with Martians,
Embrace Stars, talk to the Moon and Sun,
There is where,
He will take back with him,
The fascinating rhythms,
That shakes the World and soothe a million hearts.
When trees shade leaves down,
And the Earth becomes brown.
He will be a fair drafter,
He can pencil down it colorfully,
Decorate it with leaves and blissful dews,
Majestic sfumato of rains and soft winds,
Will let the tree swing again,
Amidst the ever green beautified land,
Then his tireless crayons will smile.
Out of strong Oaks,
He carves a warfare long ship,
Mightier than the unsinkable Titanic,
Unshakable and undefeated,
It conquers the sea waves,
Run over any storm,
And terrifies the Leviathan.
He has powerful parodies,
That Aesthetics won’t judge wrong,
He can decide to tear up the World,
Turn in upside down.
Just on his singleness,
He can make all creatures follow his rhythm,
Peace or war,
Cry or laughter,
He has the most powerful mimics,
That fill his living Artful heart.
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