I thought I knew the facts until I saw a photograph
That made me realize that I had no damned idea.
It spun my brain around and stopped that nasty train of thought
In its forward track with a screech of metal on metal.
Sometimes it’s not about me and about something bigger
With a history I can’t know or comprehend or fix.
Less intelligent, less creative, less educated.
I must learn to bow to the master and listen harder.
I must carry the buckets of water till I drop
And let the children drink deep of it first, before me.
I must accept the past as unchangeable and frozen
And sit in the silent dark a few hours to create.
We are the simple servants of our arts, not their masters.
Forgive the old lady, Sensei, I am learning so late.
My job is simple, to watch your flight and remember it.
And when I put my pen to paper, recreate the picture.
That does not come from me but from the Earth and sky above.
It is a gift and a trust that I must humbly treasure.
And we must part forever, walking side-by-side and alone.
Greater and lesser than the sum of the parts, but alive.