The Appearance

No one understands my art
My painting is abstract,
Only the one with the eyes,
The eyes of the initiate,
Who looked closely and saw beyond,
Only he can see,
What the eyes can not see,
Help me look through,
Tell me what you saw. 


Is there hope for the weak,
To have food on his table,
Knowing how weak he has been,
Inability to fight for a morsel,
Would he be able to grab a bite?
Look again and see,
That things will get better,
Look again and tell us,
Though it begins on a bad note,
The latter end shall greatly enlarge,
And the poor will breathe again. 

My painting is old,
As old as the appearance of man,
When emptiness was made known,
Shapeless and void,
No existence was here then,
That's how old my painting had been, 
Until the appearance of thr wolves,
That has come to ravage, 
Plunder our labour,
And left us with bothing,
Now you understand my painting,
Your inner eyes are opened,
Go ahead and give your utterance,
Let's know what you saw. 

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