One can never second guess
the mind of a writer,
As thought, perception, observation,
Are all interpreted in a fashion
That may seem vague ---
even oblique,
As writers possess an awareness
That demands more than fleeting attention.
A span open --- and vast,
Yet confined to the mind
And so,
Always a desperate need for expression.

Curious,
Must be the reader,
With only the agility of mind
To travel,
To experience,
To focus on the detail
And accept the slightlest of observations
For manifest.
Magnification of the minute
Is a provocation for thought...

Emotion is a Temptress,
As poets are empaths of a sort.
The depth of their own pain, passion, pleasure
Rivets heart, mind and soul --
Yet, they experience just as deeply,
Absorb and celebrate
The hurt and glory of life and individual
around them.
Thus, the stage, the set and the key
To these creations borne of the coordination
Of heart and hand.

They are a breed of artists,
Only, set apart by their art --- like the rest.
From the castles of masons,
To the scenes of brush,
Passion is the seed of creativity
That bears the children of art.
A lineage not reserved for intellect alone,
For there is art in all talent.

These, are the tokens of obsession,
Crafted by the mediums of Passion,
Imparted and entrusted to the world,
The ideas, the art
And, ultimately,
The culture that will shape the face of this era
For all time to come...

MSV