A Treatise on Michelangelo


52

A man paints with his brains
Not with his hands
A woman makes music not with her fingers
But with her heart
Death and love move the artist

We all labour to the genius
Of our own absolute love
But we must learn eternal patience
For faith in oneself is always
the best and safest course

In this brute world of circumstance
Our fate can change in an hour
If we have been pleased with life
We should not be displeased with death
Since all art comes in the end

From the same master
Still then would I hope that
I may always desire more than
I can humanly accomplish, therefore
That the art of God may shine in me

Not for any personal glory but
For the human good, for that spirit
I live and love in God’s peculiar light
And my soul can find no staircase to heaven
Unless it be through Earth’s loveliness.

Michelangelo’s lost Formula


8

After trying many years, and then
impoverished, I found the fountain of delight
it is an inner wealth, splendid wife

a seed divine, that glows with inner-harmony
it is the returning Tao, life’s estate
when beauty and love’s metaphors

lay dormant, pregnant, knowing, intrinsic –
Oh my beloved nature’s like that too
after many trying years, and then

my mind fell silent and no longer says
that desire or pain have any place to stay
only a smiling surrender, of the triumphant way.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-colors-of-Summer-402054594