The Master’s Art Poem by Austyn Chimbuoyim

Done and dusted, are the Arts of the Saints
We look and wonder
Without actually seeing a yonder
How fair the impressions of brush and paints

Like pencils, they were, in His hands
To write and to draw
That, on which we now gaze with awe
And the Creator’s slates on which is scribed His artistic strands

Tested and proved, the science of the Saints
Though nature wants it soft
Rough and tough it’s as oft
And out of the crucible it stays devoid of taints

Yet they only mimed the One Masterpiece,
Mimesised the real Model
And gained the ‘saintly’ label
Love is the art; sacrifice the science

It matters; it’s what brought them there
The Master’s Arts,
The Creator’s Science
Get on the wings, but only if you care…