
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


