Revelation ... !!!

In the race of life ...

I stumbled upon something ...

and fell on my knees ...

Time whispered in mockery ...

"You are old and weary ... "

Arrogant Writer ... !!!

They sat down
to discuss
the divinity of art ...

A painter dipped the brush
in colors full of life ...
few strokes on canvas ...
"Voila ... The Art" ... He said ...

*Sound of a pen scratching on paper*

"Ehm" ... A singer stood up ...
In her magical voice,
she stopped the moments,
turned sound into an Art ,,, !!!

*Fainted scratching continued*

A little his fingers moved
and the instrument was blazing
the tunes, the melodies of nature,
"What better art is than my trumpet" ... said another one ...

*Sound became louder and clear*

"Anything you would like to add ?... " ... Painter asked ...
from a person sitting at the back
constantly scratching the paper
with his fancy pen ...
as if he was drowning ...
in the odysseys of his imagination ...
as if he was choking ...
on the realities of his existence ...

*Scratching stopped suddenly*

He stood up and turned to the door ...
A cold sigh ... a deep breath he took,
Started walking and a gust of wind,
flew the paper he was scratching on,
and that fell in their feet ...

" ....... Imaginations hitting the canvas ...
as if emotions are painted ...
turning the oblivion, the emptiness ...
into reality ... with the perspective of
colors, but how can it define a life ? .......
And the nature, dancing on notes
with a femme fatale, may be the voice
that nature assumed an art, mistakenly,
is on the mercy of her age ...
but how can art be enslaved by time ? ...
As if the man made instruments
gave the notion of art ...
what was the art before a human
had made a fancy molding to label it
something that had been his "Maya"
May be the art is his sub-conscience,
when the spirituality smolders,
in the outrageous roars of
echoing sentiments, just then
the ART rises from the ashes ...
or perhaps .................. "

* fading ink with nib cutting the paper *