The eternal Artist
The artist in deep sleep
After a long hard journey
Across the seven seas
Of mind, heart and soul.
Silence whispers
To let the traveler melt into the ecstasy of deep meditation
Into the tangled web of retrospection
Of every thing that happened
During the long
Or short span of life
Depends how we measure it.
A drama unfolded
With no script
No director
No time to take two
The life got painted
In hues of love, life and laughter
Resonating in the crevices of sorrow and strife
That did not make him weak
To shed tear
Or to falter from the strip of art
But cried inside
Walking on the water of samsar mahasagar
So hard indeed.
To be alive after all.
Still
In the midst of chaos and complexity
In the midst of random events
That string together to make the garland of life
He continued to give
a form, a shape, a voice
a structure,
to his imagination
and to the fantasy of others
an alluring manifestation
To the hearts of thousands
Who applauded as the curtain draws
The artist had not time
To relish
Nor to bask in the sunshine of glory
But to move on to another project
Like the busy bee moving to from flower to flower.
Now the time has come
To do the same for the higher audience
To make them laugh
To make them ebullient
To make them amazed
So that they will
Adore him
Make one of them
For the eternity.
((*.*))
August 19, 2009
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