May Flowers

3 months in quarantine

and I struggle.

But still I choose each day

to get up

to be good to myself

and to paint.

.

I feel weary and disinterested

then the morning light in my studio distracts me.

.

I scrape drying paints off of my pallet

Both vibrant and neutral

And i become curious

.

I smear greasy Pigments from heavy tubes

onto grey glass

And I am a child again

playing in the mud

crushing plants between my fingertips

and holding them to the sky.

.

I watch the brushes leave their strange marks on the linen

And it delights me.

.

I turn up my music

and catch myself beaming.

I’m enchanted.

Now I'm in the thick of it.

.

I watch the light and shadow build

And I become patient.

.

I watch the chaos of the brush strokes

rest against familiar forms

and my anxious mind knows peace.

.

I strike color harmonies

and my heart sings...

.

Euphoria...

Euphoria...

Golden wine.

.

Everlasting peace.

Everlasting harmony.

.

Now the ground below supports me strong

and I am whole again.