I wish to create beautiful pictures
That the masters always drew
I want to produce a sound
Like the masters had always played
I want to paint a scene
That only the masters had dreamed
It is now I begin to wonder
About the one that is my teacher
That same master was once the apprentice
And who was the envisioned one for the dreams he had coined?
Who had been the master of the masters of long past
If one can create with these two hands
Then who rose and became the creator
If one could play a note with these strong fingers
Who was the one to shoulder the instrument?
If one could paint with only their mind
Who was the one who became the free thinker?
It was you all along, the one who did not understand
Now go forth and give sight to the blind