The very second you think you understand a celestial piece of fine art

A bittersweet reminder of one’s mortalness; it is by past

The opening move of the Absolute is we have to decease

Nearly every belief comes from that hope of presence

While purest love reconciles the dualism of life and death as mental harmony

Many feel that the vivacity of a soul in its journey

Which is finite in expression yet infinite in theory

Must go through the portals of quietus to realize eternity

An artwork is the product of bizarre saintly activities in the human mind

Each one holds its own experience and an epithet

That is all to be said, even the amorists have trouble itemizing the rest

Sometimes creating it is as simple as childbirth

Other times you have to wrestle with gods

Learn to breathe in a no air environment to achieve and appreciate results

A divine work of art revives and reshapes time and space

Expands the old laws, interprets them in a more liberal sense

The tasteful time a genius devotes makes art’s uniqueness

Therein immortality is a common place

It allows the building of an enchanted palace; a sandcastle in soft air

Where colors are brighter, the flowers more fragrant than ever

And all creatures are unfading since they are ignorant of death

The measure of its success is the extent to which it makes you believe in its faith

Want to be a privileged inhabitant of this universe

By inviting you in and letting you respire its strange, special ambience

Put your heart and soul into work and forget your intellect in the process

Call it intimacy, lovemaking or the most heavenly congress

Since its Glory does not lie in the belongings you leave behind

But in the audience your creativity has touched deep down

It is Art, a valiant human effort to imitate the composition of nature

The masterpiece of beauty, a love child who will enable us

To lose and find ourselves in a simultaneous manner

Which is hardly ever completed, merely deserted nevertheless

Clair de Lune.