Call of the Artist
Poem for Day 045 – 20141107
The artist stands outside,
beckoning you from the narrow.
Do not answer their siren call,
lest you embrace their great divide.
The artist has no beginning.
The end is equally remote,
They are not present when people mourn,
instead they manifest reality reborn.
in the space of birth and death,
the artist follows their own footpath,
an explosive catch in the twitch of time.
Creation breathes life into the raw,
the result greater than the parts.
Acclaimed or distained,
the artist strives to subvert.
Order is established, destroyed, and recreated.
Foundations of source supplicate to a stronger will.
Final forms conjured from the innate remains,
the old is new as the forgotten restates.
Their legacy is Shiva's path,
destruction of order creating the new.
Beware the artist's shadow,
their subversive point of view.
Listen to me sane innocent.
Do not stray from your path implicit.
Stay in your safe world,
far from the artist's realm,
lest you surrender to the transformation
of your soul and mind aberration.
© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.