Lives tussle and stir
Beneath the high rolling Harlem sun
Artisans peer from drawn curtains
Perplexed, glad and greatly astonished
“The world carries on “
“And a fruitful harvest lingers for the mind”

They react in curious ways
At the swarms of hard and soft matter
Each molecule that toils and strives in unison
Scurries to the rhythm
Of the ever watchful universe
Ushered by mystery, urged on by instinct

Creative minds trudge
Wallowing in their fresh coats and stanzas
The strain of tedious pondering
The profane exodus of frustration
The proud wail of great exhilaration

From their quaint studios
They arise
To claim their earthly fortunes
Found only at the humble and lonely canvas
The quiet keys of coal and ivory
Within the wise and patient cello
And throughout the anticipating, barren notepad

The tussle only subsides
When dreams kneel and abide
And allow common virtues
To be their lonesome guide
When once fruitful minds
Can no longer provide