Talent is the finest instinct of honor demanding to exist
In the very blood of every true artist
It must possess an organic growth of decades of training
In the law of obedience and self-immolation
Observed as a code of moral principles unsaid and unwritten
In no way needed to create or establish them
January 3, 2012 at 3:11 pm
Cem,
You have a great poem lurking in your “tags”: give each word or phrase one line . . . try reading it outloud. I like it.
Blessings of light for you and yours as this wonderful year unfolds,
mickey