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THE ARTIST

I was a painter

Still I draw sketches and paint

I used to be proud of my art

Though,I appreciated others talents too-

As beautiful,good and excellent;

But at the same time I also disliked some,

Consequently some artists are good,

Some bad and others ordinary,

But suddenly my consiousness-

led me to a different plane

Where I saw the perfect art

My ordinary vision altered

And i saw everything he has made

So beautiful and with such perfection

That good was liked, loved and admired by everyone

And the bad and ugly were despised

by everyone without exception

But i alone in that plane of consiousness

Could see the beauty of ugliness in his art,

Ah! What a great artist he is!

now I looked for the great artist

Whose art is here, there and everywhere

But as usual he was untraceable

With left out aura of his noble presence.