The Day Painter

By The New-Age Thinker

The feathers fall from his face,
as he rises from another night.
He lifts his arms, in celebration,
glad that darkness has taken flight.
The stalks of flowers now stand tall,
the animals can be heard once more;
with excitement in their voices,
proclaiming all that they adore.
He heaves a sigh that loosens up
all that night had held;
Sees the sky and mumbles thanks
to God for all that he beheld.
And now that night has taken rest,
he once more can go to work;
he grabs his tools, priceless as jewels,
and goes where stars now lurk.
He walks on clouds, taking care
not to fall from such a height.
For God had saved him once before,
and has yet to grant him flight.
And so he sits on Orion's belt,
pondering what to do.
And in his mind he realizes,
the sky could use more blue.
“Ah what beauty to behold,
in the eyes of all who see.
If only you looked up
from your lives,” sadly stated he.
And so he paints, forevermore,
all that we see in day,
never knowing that it is in fact
the night we appreciate.

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The Day Painter

Created: Jul 16, 2010

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