Artist to Artist
We read the clouds and grasp the vision.
We choose our way as though we were bidden.
We are caught in a wind that blows unending.
Awake, yet lost, in waves that are hidden.
The muse of time, she whispers unbidden.
Incessant, demanding, rewarding, uncaring.
Which path do we choose between heaven and hell?
Who is the loudest?
Which calling will tell?
Which path do you choose be it mammon or God?
Which hand do you grasp when you feel sad and lost?
What is our calling?
Which voice will you choose?
Which wind will you follow?
Which wave will you ride?
Incessant, demanding, rewarding, uncaring.
But you as the master have choices to make?
What is your calling which voice will you take?