Layer by layer

The artisan cast their stroke

Throws down an assortment of color

Of experience, and of some hope

Its between these sheets of texture

That lies the imprints of nine muses

Whose lore and whose form have gone on

To inspire

many countless amusements

Now channeled through these ones

Who have chosen to turn fear into courage

To set forth a definite point

To let their inner fire outrage!

This stretched out canvas though

Is more so an exquisite corpse

With generational touches and accents

That time has gently warped

So it’s a collage then, a mosaic!

I recognize hues and washes

That I’ve only ever seen

On Grandfather’s brushes,

And the inimitable scent

Of rainbow-colored paint

That teems from the school teacher’s classroom-

From the window of a high rise

Don’t I hear an aria

That now gently travels on

Enchanted air

Everywhere I go,

I’m surrounded by the concentric circles

Of the artists, the mystics

The dancers, the Poets,

The Painters, and the draughtsmen

I feel their energies and vibrations

All around and about me,

And under my feet

As I march down Trade and Tryon

Like links in an invisible chain

That shines from thinly painted gold

These artists at work

Adorn the Queen City

Enriching the communities

In unlimited quantities

Representing the brave and bold