I paint the things we cannot see,
I paint the songs sung by the birds in the tree,
I paint the love that shines down upon me,
a silent plea to keep us all free.
I paint the wind that moves my hand
across the canvas and through the land.
I paint the light that shows me the way.
A shimmer of hope in a summer glade,
A palette of my promises to keep
beneath the umbrella’s shade.
The canvas reveals my inner thoughts.
Shapes take form as the color grows.
The path opens, the image glows,
The message clear, and I know
you are with me now.
What guides my strokes I will not say.
Only truth drips from my brush this day.
But I know when the work is done
And the light begins to fade.
My promises kept in the summer glade.
I look upon the finished work and smile
for the gift you have made.