I Fear I May Pass On Some Day
Wracked With Pain And Old And Gray
Though Come My Passing Some May Cry
An Artist Never Truly Dies

My Art takes On A Life
That Goes Beyond My Crafting
Each Piece Endowed With Spirit
Entangled With Its Witness

And Although I Did Labor
In Sole Anticipation
My Work Transcends
The Canvas It Was Born On

It Speaks With Its Own Voice
To All Those Who Would See It

So That Long After I’m Gone
I’ll Scream Out To The Future
“I Was Here And I Had Vision”
See My Children Stand In Testament

My Offspring Remain As Evidence
Though They Stand Alone
In Passionate Indifference
To Their Creator’s Absence