The Picture of Life

Today I saw thunder leak from the sky, As if the sky was water and the thunder was dye. There was no sound there was only red, I asked a woman if God was dead. She led me to a house with just one door, Inside there was a painting of an open shore. She painted it herself she sees colors by touch. The ocean is her mind the beach is her crutch. She said each stroke is a single thought, Some of them flowed others she fought. She rubbed the painting at a boat with a sail, And said only the blind man can scream in Braille. The boat is a person she said it's a saint, God is the canvass, reality is the paint. We were created as the artists so the universe will grow, Because words can't always explain all that we know. My soul is the paintbrush as a pen may be yours, Once you begin there are infinite doors. She only paints at night it's when she feels whole, The stars give her the strength that society has stole. Quiet your mind and you will feel the yearn. Evolution is our creativity to explain what we learn. Much like wings give birds the gift of flight, We have gifts that solve the experience of life.