Klj 12012
A line,
Maybe a bird
traces its way across
A canvas of White
Stagnate and panning the landscape
it becomes enamored by
the amount of blank space left
From deep within,
a glow of Green,
blending with yellow and brown hues,
begins to wick its way
across the feathers of the Bird.
It glides close to the ground and encircles the bushes
the hues begin to passionately fill them in
turning twigs, lightly sketched, in to trees
blowing gently in the breeze
The bird
then glides up toward the breeze
catching it,
sweeping back across the canvas
to wash its wings clean
Looking down, a feeling,
a muse,
causes a glow, near its heart this time
filled with violets blues and just a bit of white
begins to wick in to its wings
over flowing,
it begins to flood across and down the rivers,
cascading over rocks gently placed
by a steady hand
Catching another breeze
it dips and turns towards the sky
allowing the shades of mixed blues to flow gently
on to the canvas
with each flap of its wings
shapely clouds fade in to strings over tree tops
giving a once clear sky
life
the bird begins to dance around the newly formed obstacles
slicing tiny details
giving movement for the flock to
glide through
Content with this the bird, the line,
or maybe a lost soul,
falls in to its place among the sun beams of a perfect day.
Soar high, little bird, soar high.
Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014
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