What are we artists for?

From journal to journey;

the fire keeps burning.

From lawyer to jury;

the tables are turning,

the fables are earning

from story to skin.

Pouring the fiction for fact to begin.

Done reading covers, I'm looking within,

peeking the plot.

Bookmark my journal with a forget-me-not

while I follow my curiosity through the living library.

From fiction to faction

of artists in action.

From streets to the cracks running

home to the bedrock.

Shown how to eavesdrop

the cursive of seeds falling

down to be sprouted;

a poem thats whispered

to the water that found it.

We are aware that our inner resounds

so the art of our lives is to:

keep clean our aquifer,

deep dream then walk the pure,

check on our bookmarks to talk for sure.

What are we artists for?