On an Eastern Mountain

High above

Where experienced hikers

Already have succumbed

Below he trudged

Stick in hand

A fellow of determination

Was his name of the land

Where to go?

What to see?

Time was running out

Quickly you see

So he set forth

To find

A cherished land

Told to him once

When he held his mother’s hand

It was then she said

Twas time you knew,

Life awaits us all

Especially you,

With that he thought

At fourteen years old

I think I’ll try to paint

Like my old man the fool

And that he did

And no fool was his dad

He gave his son his paintbrushes

And paints, to color the land

With that Pablo set out to color the world

Like no other without a spoken word

And so he lived his life so, fully

It’s not easy being

A Picasso you see.