poem of the artists

Artists
we see with our eyes
colors, shapes, designs.
we see with our imagination
possibilities and dreams.
we see with our creativity
what is invisible to others.
we see with our heart
hopes, goals, emotions.

our pencil guides us to the drawing
our paintbrush to our painting
sculpture breaks free of it's prison
poems and prose scream to get written.

imprisoned within us are ideas
ideas come to life through us
ideas have a mind of their own
We are simply their vessle
a place to keep safe until they come out,
until they find their identity
they help us find ours while we create them,
working relentlessly until they are perfect.
then we sit back,
amazed at what we had just accomplished.
though others might not see it,
we are all artists.