Not Yet

I reach for my paints, and it screams for me to love it. It is supposed to calm, and I know it will, but later. I add the lavenders, the pinks, and the grays first. The forest will be twelve shades of green, And yes I do have them, so thanks for asking. The water is dying to be painted, but I want it to be exactly the right shade. If I prematurely muck ahead, I will be sorry later. The sky is laughing at me now, reading my mind. I reach for silver, not daring to use my favorite color yet The one that God uses to tie things together. She lies in weight, breathless, watching, admiring my work. We both know when she begins pouring onto the canvas It will come alive. Written July 11, 2018 For Dale Gregory Cozart’s Brevity in Blue Contest