On a beautiful summer day

An artist set up an easel

Arranged his paints

Studied the landscape

Slow deliberate brushstrokes

Outlined the rolling hills

The green foliage

And the bright blue sky

He went into a trance 

The brush welded to his hand

Moved autonomously

Without any thought

Muscles in his hand

Controlled by unknown forces

Reproducing the landscape

Onto the canvas

He stopped to admire

His finished work

A passing family

Looked on in awe

Their youngest child

Pointed to a lonely cloud

In the blue sky

You missed a bit he said

The artist smiled

Handed him the brush

Just close your eyes

And imagine that cloud

With closed eyes

The brush danced

The missing cloud appeared

His family gasped

To the family the artist gave

That landscape painting

And to the boy

His easel paints and brushes