Finger Painting Bliss

Bright are my days, with endless hues,

I see all shades, in paint and social cues.

From speckles and spots,

To hand laid dots.

My brush, holds finger tips,

That oil dyes eclipse.

Mirages and reality, laced, entwined,

Paintings and people, they all hold design.

Structure and fate,

That paths do create.

Something so tangible is still just a thought,

Where endless validation is so frivolously sought.

Why not pull back on the ‘message’ and focus on the now,

Create something beautiful that will last and allow

It’s viewer to ever gaze into the coloured work,

That goes into every moment of hurt.

Acknowledge the present and do for oneself,

The time and the love, that is the greatest wealth.

Those that welcome my multi-toned world,

Will see a light like Van Gogh’s twirled

Starry Night sky that endlessly moves

Through time and space and forever proves,

That colour is just; it comforts our goals.

For without colour, we be minds without souls.