Words may fall onto the ground
Scatter them so all around
Will hear their call
Pick each piece up one by one
Then scatter them toward the sun
See them rise and fall

Abstract in its infancy
The painter brushes steadily
With strokes, deep and narrow
Curving, swirling silently
With movements that so gracefully
Reveal the form

Before the mask took you away
And sculptures finely made of clay
The work you portrayed
Was so much more transparent than
The subject painted by your hand
Today, on display

A cacophony of shades and hues
Dissonant yet widely viewed
Now you had an unveiling
They said it was a masterpiece
When the opening curtain there revealed
A face scored with prose, like a ghost in reverie