when earth's last picture is painted

Tuesday, at my grandfather’s funeral, my Grandma Margie spoke about the love of poetry that she shared with Granddaddy. I have many memories of Granddad quoting lines of poetry and Scripture. He also enjoyed reading, learning, language….and playing Scrabble. Grandma Margie shared how they had something of a light hearted contest going to see who could recite the most poems from memory. Granddaddy always won.

Grandma Margie shared one of his favorite poems, one by Kipling. What a classy lady. I don’t know how she got through it. I think I would have gotten choked up or been in a puddle. But she recited that poem with such confidence and assurance. It was beautiful.

"When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted"
by Rudyard Kipling

When Earth's last picture is painted
And the tubes are twisted and dried
When the oldest colors have faded
And the youngest critic has died
We shall rest, and faith, we shall need it
Lie down for an aeon or two'
Till the Master of all good workmen
Shall put us to work anew
And those that were good shall be happy
They'll sit in a golden chair
They'll splash at a ten league canvas
With brushes of comet's hair
They'll find real saints to draw from
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul
They'll work for an age at a sitting
And never be tired at all.
And only the Master shall praise us.
And only the Master shall blame.
And no one will work for the money.
No one will work for the fame.
But each for the joy of the working,
And each, in his separate star,
Will draw the thing as he sees it.
For the God of things as they are!