come-to-life

Be still my little light beam,As I breathe life into your heart,By giving you the essence of color,To show off your blossoming heart.In its red gentleness,I see your flickering flame,And then I see your body,Glowing in the dusk.Ever so gently,You do but come to life,For me to see your entirety,For me,It__ the color of love.

A piece of art comes to life, when we can feel, it is breathing, when it talks to us and starts raising questions. It may dispel biased perceptions; make us recognize ignored fragments and remember forsaken episodes of our life story. Art may sometimes even be nasty and disturbing, if we don__ want to consent to its philosophy or concept, but it might, in the end, perhaps reconcile us with ourselves. ("When is Art?")