Believe in the raindrops kissing your cheek.
Believe in the wind embracing your body.
Believe in the grasses swaying to your voice.
Believe in the snowflakes holding your hands.
Believe in the flowers blossoming around your feet.
Believe in the clouds and the shapes that you see.
Believe in your eyes and the love in the world.
Believe in the good, have hope and always faith.
Staring around the house with a paintbrush in my hand. I am not there to paint the walls, but instead to paint my life. I walk into the kitchen and wisp the brush over the table. White, and blue dishes appear. I wave the brush around my head and close my eyes. Delicious smells fill my nose and when I open my eyes I see the table full of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, freshly made rolls and grilled vegetables. The warmth of the food tingles my cheeks and nose and I see my brother point to my chair and tell me to come eat.
Around the couch I spread the paint and pillows with blankets appear. I sit with my mom and snuggle right in with a pile a books next to us. We read and we talk and we laugh and we sing and we sit and call each other our heart.
I take my brush to the front door and sweep it up and around. The oranges and reds become brighter and finally give way to an inviting yellow. I step out and see walk toward the future with my paint brush in my hand.
Still In Progress
Behind the window pane I saw your smile.
Steam from a warm kitchen began to form
droplets and a fog.
A table set for four was spaced
holding blue and white plates with silver spoons,
forks and knives.
The moonlight backdrop showed off
the vision.
From the cold snowy night I saw
everything that you had to offer.
I shivered
and left.
I left my footprints in the snow.
I knew when I first saw the snow fall
that prints could be left by any and all.
I checked through the window to see in the drifts
there were three toed bird prints and cat paws there,
holes made from icicle drops in the snow’s tear.
When I finally made it out with boots on my feet
I didn’t waste time in my jumps and my leaps.
Looking behind to see what I had left to show,
I left my footprints in the snow.
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