This is what/why I paint

Dark swirling storm clouds,
    A shroud of fog,
Red-orange clouds at sunset,
    White wisps against a cobalt sky;

Curling lichen on the side of a tree,
    A twist of a branch,
Expanse of sky above an open field
    An eagle soaring;

 Full moon lighting a snowy path,
    Stars conceding,
Hazy purple morning clouds
    Suddenly broken;

The lip-stick red maple,
    Vying with the sumac,
The bright, brief colors of autumn,
    Paling, drying, dieing;

The first unexpected dusting of snow,
     Squirrels scurrying,
Hoar frost melting
    In the mid-morning sun;

 Colorful mounds of fresh new snow,
     Blue and purple shadows,
A million diamonds sparkling
    Beyond monetary measure;

The last remnants of melting snow,
    Brooks surging,
Tender pale green shoots
    Piercing dark decay;

A fresh green meadow
    Lambs mingling with dandelions,
Sun warming hard gray rock,
    Squirrels busy again.


I quietly meditate, walk softly,
disturb little - drink it in,
Pour it out on paper.