by Michael Denson
Blessed are
those who create and recreate and recreate until the unseen is seen.
Those whose agony is the birth of something new;
something different, something good and true.
Blessed is
the one who captures life in stone and iron.
The one who shapes and reshapes the world around us.
The builder of shelter and space.
Blessed are
those whose bodies fill space with extended arms and swift feet.
Those covered in international silhouette.
Those who personify the thoughts that remind us how to move and
feel and find our freedom.
Blessed are
those whose voices become notes, become harmonies, become ballads of a people.
Those who make noise that echo throughout our bodies, and deeper still,
And deeper still
Blessed are
those who shape lines and curves into words and stories.
Those who imagine fantastical worlds of beings and being.
Blessed are
those whose flickering frames reveal to us the wisdom of yesterday
and give us the wonder of tomorrow.
Blessed is
the one overcome by color and light; whose eyes dance around form and shadow.
The one who etches paper with wood and pressed stone.
Blessed are
The ones who mirror the image of the Maker.
Those who plunge hands deep into soil and find humanity.
Those who inhale life and breathe out beauty.