[Jenna Rose]: 150.Poetry.The Painter

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The Painter
^{Copyright © Jennifer J. Radford}

Putting his brush to the blank canvas
His tired eyes close and he takes a deep breath
Praying for inspiration
So that he may rest peacefully

His hand makes it’s first move
A swift stroke across
Slowly more strokes continue and his hand shakes
But he never misses his mark

Losing himself
An image starts to appear on the canvas
His hand has stopped it’s shaking
And there’s a smile on his face

A splash of red here
Some blue and yellow there
The scene in his mind starts to unfold
To where he can almost smell the sweet sun

Hours later, he puts down his brush
More awake than he’d been in months
The cold winter had repressed him
But now his painting made him feel alive

He smiles down at his work -
A sunny field, a blue sky with cotton candy clouds
Wild flowers scattered everywhere
And he can almost feel the spring breeze dance lightly across his face

He crosses the room to his window
Opens it and breathes in deep
He no longer feels depressed at the bleak colors of grey
And at the sad sight of the dirty snow

He knows spring will soon rescue him
As his vision has promised.
The vision that now brightens his room
Making him feel alive and hopeful once again.

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