Painted Dreams

Blank canvas, filled to the depths with a wonder of image
Timeless as the temples of the old ones
Seconds pass till breath returns
The brush once released, dripping in crimson
Giving birth unto future incarnate

Cloistered in rhythm, a streaming of vision
An opening of sight, and you come…

Then and now, anew and renewed
I have always known you
Ancient and new, this sight that I see
The all of me feels, reels in rapturous joy
All madness filling core with gladness
Too soon fading away, lost to yesterday

Behind these eyes the muse cries for release
Strew principles, the simple path my guide…

Whispers from the darkened shadows
As I paint a single grain from unknown beach
Drips of color, a flowing of thought
Purest delight, soul quelling peace
Nothing added, yet nothing missed
Brush filling the page, emptiness complete

Parched thirst now sated, this parchment full
Brush creating the words, this world has awaited…

The journey begins again…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre July 12, 2009

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