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One who works with
their hands is a
laborer, with their
hands and brain,
is a craftsman...
and one who uses
their hands, brain,
and heart
is an artist.
In our book called
Thames, a young
park ranger askes,
"What are you?"
The iconic
sculpture replies,
"Iam not a what,
I am a when."
When a sparrow
first tries its wings,
when a minstrel
soulfully sings,
when an artist
crafts a gleam,
when a writer
pens a dream.
I am the moment
when you know,
how fragile is
the time you hold,
as the hurt
reach out to you,
seeking birth,
a reflection new.
I am a mirror
for the weak,
my soul is linked,
to the meek.
Touching them
you will merit,
your earthly peace,
to inherit.
Poets,
princes,
paupers too,
icey blasts
from out
the blue,
blow us
to and fro
like sails,
sans some
guidance,
how ...
not to fail.
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