What would it mean if one could hear the flutter of a butterfly’s wings on a dreamy day ?
The whispers of warm winds into tranquil bays
What would it mean if one could paint the wealth of a generous heart ?
Or the thoughts of a beast struck with a poisoned dart
What would it mean if one could hear the screams of a tree chopped down ?
The strains and dissatisfactions of a polluted town
What would it mean if one could paint the passion of a dying saint ?
The tranquillity of peace ever so faint
What would it mean if one could see these things ?
Empathize with their instances as human beings
So broad the gate, so faint the canvas
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