Your portrait
so perfect
cotton mixes with blue,
urging me to offer up
humble thanks to you.
The shapes, the hues, tiny shells
each detail speaks to me.
Standing in your portrait,
I begin again.
I breathe.
You brush the waves across the sand
and gently touch my face,
with a wind so soft, but awakening
and leaving in its trace
The need to rid myself of words
held dormant in a heavy soul.
In awe of you, hope sparks within,
running from head to toe.
Inside a breathing portrait
you’ve left me in a state.
I have to try to share this sensation,
To live, be bold, create.
I’ll proclaim your love,
I’ll tell a story
of a girl who I once knew.
She covered her ears when you spoke to her,
too stubborn to believe the truth.
She’d lost her way,
wounded, angry
She wouldn’t let you near.
But the rescuer, you held on tight
as she danced in the dark for years.
Tried and tested
she fell and fell again,
but you were always there.
Yet words don’t suffice to try to explain
a love to which nothing compares.
You are the one,
the only one,
who could communicate these emotions.
No words are needed; your portrait conveys it,
you use the sky, the sand, the oceans.
So I’ll walk away,
humble, yet brimming
with these words I must put to paper.
I’ll probably fail, but I’ll try to express it,
the awesomeness of our creator.
The ocean roars, reaching my ears
with the promise of a home up above.
Sand on my feet, sun on my skin,
I’m filled with gratitude for your love.
It’s time to go, words to write,
a purpose you’ve given to me.
I’ve been standing in your portrait,
I’ll begin again.
I’m free.