He dips His brush
into the light of winter
and paints naked trees on water
and the world trembles in the wind:
the Painter loves December.
He is the Master of illusions
and children guided by emotions
ask themselves questions like
How do clouds float in the sky?
Why do we have to die?
But He holds their little lives
in the cold palm of His hand.
How could they understand?
~
Le Pinceau © 2016 – F.G.M.
