The silence of a thousand words
A thousand words are displayed in the stroke of a brush,
A thousand pictures flashed on the reading of a word,
A thousand books are written on the stroke of a chord.
It is in this way that art forms indulge…
In a display of child-like frivolity,
they tease but never fight;
Compliment but don’t compete,
For they all exist to convey the one message which is long forgotten…
And the artist knows that they show—
How to create beauty in diversity,
How to unite difference,
How to potray serenity in the difference of opinions,
How to create the magic of the rainbow…
using some raindrops and a star;
Sadly, Man, the owner and creator of all art forms…
never learned this from his own brain child,
fought and competed and differed,
didn't care if he had to beg, borrow or break for it.
Peace please, period.
