Wither Humility

a poem by Shobha

I asked an artist once
do you feel blessed
for your gift of art
that gets you adulation
fame, name and riches.

No it is my doing
that I reap
and no credit can be
shared with a force unknown.

And I thought
while the tree bends
with the weight
of it’s fruits
here is the chosen one
mocking humility.