If artists teach our eyes to see
with tenderness
with clarity
the world of forms
of colors
light
the aura that delineates
the distant hills
the human face
a chair a table
sunflowers and seeds

Then poets show us where to look
among the leaves
for what unknowingly
we've left behind
or lost or in the mirror
where the wolf
our other self stares back at us
with angry face yet pleading save me
say his eyes
and you will save yourself as well

If artists show us
how to see a sky with clouds
an empty field
then poets teach us how to feel
the tender life within the child
that we were once
can still embrace
nurture and nurturing
may learn again the innocence
we knew the joy we felt when all
the world was young

While artists paint
and poets write
then even if museums close
and books are banned
the world will still
harbor the grace
that sheds its light
on all and gifts us
each with eyes to see
heaven within the flower
the angel hidden in the face
both of the stranger
and the one we love