My Artist

I am my Artist’s brush,
Free to be twirled and stroked as He wish,
Let His greatness shine through my nothingness,
Let His graciousness work through my weak bristles

I am only a tool for His works,
Ever ready to perform without boundaries,
His paint flows abundantly to mere creatures,
Creating imageries that otherwise none can see

My artist takes care of me,
He washes and purges me clean,
He put me on canvas to show His artistic flair
Awe in the eyes of those who never knew Him

His work shall go beyond the cloisters of monks
Right through the slums and the corals of the sea
A majestic creation that illumines the darkness of Monalisa
Putting even a smile to Van Gogh’s lonely, starry night

I shall wait till the days when I am worn out
Still He would never forsake me
He shall remember His precious old brush
He shall carve a Golden box for me to stay