I have two hands and a brush

And a silver palette filled

With many colors lush

That I swirl and I swill.

 

My brush I drag across and down.

Black drips into white

And clashes with red, yellow, and brown.

Losing individuality in their fight to be right.

 

When the colors are all blended and smoothed

I pause in my mixing might

And I see that I have produced

A uniform dull color of the lightest night.

 

I face the blank canvas

And place the brush poised

To lather every recess

In silent noise.

 

Soon blank canvas isn’t blank,

Not anymore,

But smothered in paint blended bland,

And drabness some more.

 

Grimace. “Not this!

How boring!” I exclaim,

Then I crumple up the bland canvas

And throw it away.

 

Once more, new palette,

New canvas, new brush.

Only the hands stay same –

And now a hush.

 

Imagine an image,

Place the brush flush

Against the blank canvas;

Take care not to rush.

 

Blank canvas in front

Commands unto me,

“Paint me in bold

A bright beautiful scene.”

 

I paint.

 

Yellow sun and beach,

Lovely yellow setting sun and shining beach.

 

Red sea and sky,

Glittering red sea and flaming sky.

 

Black reef and rocks,

Majestic black reef and great rocks.

 

Brown trees and coconuts,

Graceful brown palm trees and fresh coconuts.

 

White shells and clouds,

Glittering white shells and elegant clouds.

 

Optical orbs take in full

And now I see.

It’s so beautiful

When the colors are free.

 

In one Picture, one Painting,

One World, one Society,

The colors distinct

Live so harmoniously.