My Pen with the Little Cap for John G. and the Nightwatch

Oh, I have in my pocket a quill and parchment that will serve me in an instant.
This morning I am thinking of all the centuries of poets and artists who had no such servants.
Lost?
No, those poems and lines and paintings that filled their minds and hearts are not lost.
We will experience them,
dance to music sung once
at a sunset in ancient times
and heard by No One
but the artist and the Author of all sunsets.
Oh, we will dance to that song and gaze at that painting,
weep at those words never written down but not lost.
Heaven.