Brothers, lovers, artists all!

for Béro, Carrie, Catherine, everyone

Amar Shah · Brothers, lovers, artists, all!

Surely you are not alone.
We artists are a tribe,
sisters of a higher order,
here to nurture, guide.
Leaning heavy on each other,
letting flow the rushing water
coursing, shooting, manifesting
wishes of our artist god,

in whose hands we mighty are,
in whose light we brilliant are,
in whose joy together we
are brothers, sisters, siblings, lovers,
friends and fathers, kids and mothers,
so—
let's

never be afraid again of gifts our mothers gave us,
never be afraid again of powers fathers trained us:

charcoal, paint and pens and pencil,
scissors, tape and glue and stencil,
line and meter, birch and cedar,
mortar, pestle, rice and lentil.

These are artists' tools.
These are artists' loves. (Loaves!)

These are every baby's rattle,
every wise old wizard's whittle,
every midwife's lunar chart.
All the means to practice art

are birthrights,
yours and mine and ours,
and we fill the many hours
in happy, silly, messy play...

play,
play,
play,
play.

Just play and rest and make and play
and build and care and rest and play,

it's all we ever wished for you,
your fathers' mothers' sisters' brothers,
aunts and uncles, cousins, lovers,
friends and equals here together.

All we ever wished for you.
Nothing else you need to do
but play,
play,
play.