“The Cycle of Art” (Poetry)

The art flows through ink
It is a world of thought
Portrayed through molecules
That stain the white paper
With the dark colors that
Will imposes on it

Create through destruction
Of the purity of
What was but paper, still
A sheet of dead flesh from
What was once living, yes
Now becomes a template 

It was part of life
A breathing live green plant
Taking in the sun’s rays
Now but a bare fragment
To fill with marks of ink
Turn thoughts into being

Let the inspired light
Of imagination
Revive this poor dead sheet
As now the dark ink stains
A new portrayal, something
You’ve never beheld before

Art is often the stuff
Of dreams forgotten then
Returned to then be seen
As new eyes catch glimpses
The dream is brought to life
What once lived does again

~ Phoenix <3

Originally written 2-23-07 / revised 6-10-18