What
God creates life for artists imaginations
To fill in colors, missing parts with no mistakes
Tangibles become open, solid, clear
Aged by the absence of interpretation
With so much space the rest is left up to us
Where less is more
Persistence initiates
No desire or permission to preexist
We simply are when time comes out to play
What is that repetition in the woods
With proportions measured out
The warbler knows no other song but rain
Again to follow it on wet branches
Or on grounds it wobbles about to drown
Moving on with no doubt from where it came
The honey badger staggers awkwardly
A chance to find a mate perhaps
Hiding underbrush at closer range
You know that it is there intuitively
By the invisibility conjectured vacancies
If only memory would listen
Let artists fill in the empty spaces colored
Allow God to do his job as well
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2016
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