Artist, You Are More Than

Artist, you are more than what you produce.

You are a caregiver,

Whose aching hands, stained with color,

Show us how to hold

The peculiar weight of glory —

The wonder found

In something hoped-for,

In something lost.

Artist, you are more than your content.

You are an architect,

A builder of worlds, of stories, of sounds,

But even more, of shelters

Over our death beds,

Where we slowly begin to stir,

Our breath remembering forgotten air,

Our skin reveling in the warmth of early morning light,

Our bodies learning to rest again.

Artist, you are more than your metrics.

You are shepherds,

Teaching us how to walk in a better light —

The rhythms of poverty,

The melodies of mourning,

The prologues of meekness,

The unhurried posture of hungry souls,

Starved imaginations

Remembering the bitter-sweetness

of the world as it should be

Working backwards.

Artist, you are more than an algorithm.

You are a prophet,

Refusing the easy violence

Of impulsive outrage.

Keeping hope in our periphery.

You embody a fierce patience,

Resting in the slow revelation beauty hides.

But it does not hide forever.

Artist, you are more than what you create.

Because of that,

Your songs,

Your pictures,

Your paintings,

Your movements,

Your films,

Your poems,

Your stories,

Your sculptures,

Teach us how to see,

And show us how to live.

Without you,

We forget how to pray.

Without you,

We forget how to love.