The Painter

Paint me by daylight,
your brushstrokes sure and fast.
Finish me by moon rise, before
The pale light erases my canvas,
before she covers me in black
painted white again with dawn.

Paint me in lightness, with highlights and
summits. Gentle wind and birdsong.
Colour me with sunlight, bright unfading.
Nightfall stains, doubt arising. Will your paint
transcend the two faces of my coin?

You paint me in July, still a different image
than April, still a new image in December.
Keep pace with my watercolour, acrylic boldness.
Slow drying oil hurt turned glossy in darkness.

Yet you paint me with song. Sticks and stones
and pebbles insignificant.
Same nightsong as daysong
sings I’m here, I’m still here.
Listen.

Blessings, Viola

PS. Merry Christmas from all the Herspace gals! :)