Saturday, May 23, 2009

Since morning

I have painted the blue of the ocean green waves just outside our window for you to see. The morning sun rises from behind the green veil , I painted for you. The world was not built. The world was painted. Every leaf of every tree is a painting. Colours change the seasons. The flowers in our garden and the trees in the forest ; the water is golden as the sun meets your eye. The orange flames crackle in the hearth as the world gets painted in crayon.