Ready to Create

Reaching for a brush,

I grab the small misshapen one.

The handle 

Slightly loose

And the bristles out of line.

Oil pigments 

Taken from the tube

Mix with the turpentine 

On my palette.

A world they are ready to create.

Stroke by stroke,

Each building 

From the previous.

Objects which were once

Just shapes,

Now turn into life.

Colors and textures

Dance across the canvas

Like autumn leaves

In the morning wind.

That surface, 

Which was white

Just hours ago,

Now shines with hundreds

Of hues.

Beauty 

Only seen in the imagination

Now turned into reality.

All from that one 

Misshapen paintbrush.