He holds his power inside

he wants to build it

enjoying, the many expressions of it

He does not trade his energy

in pursuit of wealth

an expression of his genius

not a static state

a priority, the way it used to be

for many men, who became masters.

He does not look to others

the way God looks at the world

He only paints

there is something perfect, in perfection

despairing, in the corporate drone

by not needing it, he will get it

the gates of heaven will open up

the lazy one will prosper, because he didn’t try

he only did what he loved,

not by quotas, or schedules

but by love

it’s impossible to keep a man from it

until he stops loving it

It must die, in him

and if it won’t die

it grows contagious

like a virus, everybody wants to get

born inside

seldom given

and less often, received

When he finds it

He won’t trade it

Love is worth his life.