No brush was found
the day it was made,
no paint therefore
spilled upon the canvas.
A hammer and chisel
perhaps to make the scene,
alas those too were missing.
No, there was no paint nor brush,
no hammer nor chisel,
not even a needle and thread
nor a conductor with his orchestra.
Nothing was found that day
to portray the beauty of the world,
so came forth the poet
mighty with the strength of the pen.
He had no brush
but painted creation for all men;
no chisel
yet constructed the grandest monument;
no thread
yet knit the most regal tapestry.
Nothing was given but a pen
and with the stroke of it
nations fell;
wars ceased;
and love was written
for all to see.
With a single, simple, pen...
T