old can be new again
it touched me with a purpose
paint those lines that color field this form those faces
tell the story you do not even know you have to tell
in color in heat in malleability
take this substance that becomes a landscape flower hand soil rock sea
an abstract field
a wonder unexplored
tell the tale that only you can tell
I didn’t know that was what it was when I began
it took me and turned me
something came I didn’t know I wanted
needed
it forced a life upon me which put my feet in places I only yearned for
thinking life was a yearning
(realizing now of course it is a living)
this was the greatest surprise met only by the lost memory of crying that first breath into the bright lights of this world
I no longer walk this waxen path except when a small giggle wanes and worms it’s way on a breeze
to the palette I then there go letting myself hear that cry again so here then again I take up the sweep of the brush fresh as if before the whole world opened and allowed me in
for just that one spectacular ride
old can be new again