Work in color

He opens his box of shapes and sizes
No surprises
colors fleeing on windswept clouds
astounded he stares
for each time he opens his box of things
he feels the joy it brings.
He pries back the board so tenderly
afraid for the day
they don’t come out to play
but they know him well,
his favorite shades that bring a light to each day,
playing their role
they soar like birds on ocean breezes
above him, his box releases
without further adeiu
for me and you.
He has to create
these pastel whimsied worlds
for it is his nature
and he knows no other way,
a magician of life he gives away
a piece of himself each day
from the bottomless well he says feels often dry
so his tears he cries
never knowing that each drop that falls
fills that magic box he carries,
he openly shares
for in beauty and love he knows will grow
as the color moves outward
touching each soul
his work in color is never done,
each day has just begun
and the supply paints the world
glistening drops of beauty
filling voids where broken ugliness hides
keeping him alive.

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10 thoughts on “Work in color

  1. Pingback: My Very First Post Revisited #MyFirstPostRevisited – A Joyful Process

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