He Paints
He paints
With love, anger, mercy and pain.
I feel the rush of his brush
With feelings I can’t explain.
He paints.
He paints
The future, presence and the past.
Brushes my path with colors
I’ve never seen that will last.
He paints.
He paints
Day by day and night by night.
While I sleep and while I wake
I am always in His sight.
He paints.
He paints
My path, my choice and my all.
It is beautiful but yet confusing.
Because He draws everything
Including my fall.
He paints.
He paints
With blue, yellow and black.
He paints with colors and sometimes blood
In a living art who don’t know his worth.
As He brushes the gold from the dirt.
It reveals the truth of why
He paints.
April 21st, 2006 at 9:56 pm
in the winding hallway of my life, where paintings of memories hung on the silent walls, i am reminded that i am here who i am today is by the abundant grace He laid down as my path… and u were one of the best thing that happened in my life.
September 10th, 2006 at 9:06 am
Love this poem! And Evelyn is soooooooooo sweet