Impressionism (Revamped)

'Tis not the time of life
To be merely suffered through
It's rather to be savoured--
Every moment known as true.

The Painter has a vision
To which the Canvas is not privy,
Tis only for the Canvas,
Her postion to go on living.

She wimpers all the while, impatient
Wondering what the Painter sees
He smiles and continues, just pliant
He to has plead with her to be.

He talks her, from time to time,
To remind her that He loves her
This small creation in the making,
Forgets often that she's authored.

Adoring ever is this Painter,
More so than his subject
Who forgets to love the process
And the becoming of the object.

It's not the end that matters
It's the progress that is made,
For truly no stroke is formed
That the Artist has not bade.
-T. Emerson