THE MASTER'S ART

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…

                                                                                                Austyn C