Paint across the open skies with innocence
Streaks of purple, rose, and shades of gray
Count the starlight twinkles as they fall
Like silent teardrops from the moonless night

Run my brush along the sky for one last time
To bring the shining sun up in my hand
Warm the earth and make the flowers bloom
And paint the golden leaves, and grasses green.

If I could paint the sky, I’d paint the world
Color the emotions with my fingertips
I’d pour sorrows through the yellow desert sand
And through the sparkled waters, dapple bliss.

And when I paint the people as my own
They’ll dance through meadows in the rain
Sail the star-filled night to a golden castle in the sky
And they’ll sleep amongst the tinted trees.

They’ll wake to dragonfly suns and purple heavens
And the shining webs hung through the trees
Drinking deep of painted scents and sparkled shadows
And breathing in the colors of their lives.

Near the end I’d have to splash the ink of death,
For all things must come to an end some day.
Drops of loneliness and despair would be few
All the lives taken would make room for something new.

I can’t change the world with a swift twitch of my hand
Or with buckets of paint on an old, empty page
But this is how the skies and the earth and creatures would be
If the world were a canvas, and life was my brush.

 
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