Painting Clouds
I simply can't paint you.
I try and I struggle.
But you will not be held or captured.
I can not pin you down.
Your splendour and majesty.
Your brilliance of colour and depth.
Your movement and grace.
Your diversity and changeability.
I cannot capture you with my brush.
An argument I will never win.
A venture that has no end.
Wrestling Leviathan or a fight with the sea.
I try. I struggle.
I attempt new techniques.
New colours and strokes.
I shift and shade.
My skills are lacking, to be sure.
Yet, I am convinced that even if...
If I had the skills of the masters,
I could never paint you.
Vangough's brilliant use of colour,
his light and shadows...
He failed to paint you.
To paint you truly.
You have been painted already.
Made, altered, mastered...
by the Master, Himself.
He that pulls the great beast with a hook.
He that wrestles the waves.
He that says, thus far and no more!
He has painted you perfectly.
Displayed His magnificent skills!
November 2020
