art speaks

it happens sometimes
not too often though
that a piece of art
finds a place
in your heart
and you carry it around
with a sense of wonder
at the mind which saw the picture
the hands which held the brush
the emotion that mingled with the colours
did the artist paint in a frenzy of creation
or was his mind calm and untroubled
the picture that was yet to
emerge clear and bright
before his eyes
did he paint because he must
or was it an attempt to immortalize his self
who first laid eyes on it
who first exclaimed at the magic
did it move many hearts
did it bring forth joy or tears
the invisible thread that ties the art with the viewer
did it spin a web fine but strong
or was it only to a few that it belonged
for a long time i stood and gazed
speechless immobile blind to the crowds
milling around me
the questions whirled in my head
no answers came forth
but the blossoms spoke to me
i heard their story
it sounded like mine and yours
give of yourself as the flowers do of their
radiance and fragrance
and the world is a better place to live in
(priya)