The azure skies as the canvas;
The trees as brush of all sizes;
Flowers, array of many colours,
And all men & women painters…
Yet a mortal find himself lacking
To depict His love in his painting,
For ignorance & laxity takes over
And keep his wisdom undercover.
Thus, the Lord-given blank pages,
For mankind of all race and ages,
Remain unused because o’ vanity,
And God’s reward lost for eternity.
Hark! Wisdom chastens humanity
To embrace HIS gift in all humility,
And make amends for men’s folly
By honouring the Holy of the holy.
So take up your brush and paint
Your gifted canvas ere you faint.
Take up your quill & script away
Ere the sun sets to end your day.
Worry not about the outcome,
Nor of what you may become.
Only play your role on t’e Stage
O’ life, w’ile in your blessed age.
A. Anato Swu
