There’s a man at the top of the hill
Just sitting
Maybe he’s resting-
His tired limbs, tired body
Carrying such a heavy soul
So close to the sky.
Maybe he’s reflecting-
His mind stuck wandering
Between past and present
And all the things he would change.
Maybe he’s retiring-
Giving up on the life
That was so harsh to him
Starting a new one in tune with nature.
I don’t know why he’s there.
Maybe he doesn’t either.
Canvas
Freshly stretched
And never used
That smells of paper
Feels like silk
And tastes like new beginnings
Until you pick up your brush.
Inspiration moves you
Stroke by stroke
As you create a masterpiece
Day by day
Until passion dwindles-
Then you’ll wait
Until it strikes
And you’ll overcome.
The end result
Will be a painting
Of insurmountable beauty
Created by the still life moments
That you captured in your mind
Heart and brush
Forever preserved in paint
For all to see and admire.
http://www.napowrimo.net/ prompt for day 27.