Paint Me A Picture

Paint me a picture of your world.
Is there warm colors of joy
or cool colors of sadness?
A mix of secondary and primary
to show that the world isn’t one-sided?
I don’t know how you show your tones,
so paint me a picture.

How many layers of paint did you brush on?
Are there one or two layers to show simplicity our lives should be
or is there three or more to show how we are weighed down
by the complexities of life that are given to us by choice?
I don’t know what you did,
so paint me a picture

Is the world a scary place for you,
where children hide from judgmental voices
as they have eyes that cry of innocence?
Is the world a shining light,
a gleaming ray of hope coming down
to shed away the shadows of fear and terror
or are your strokes of anger and rage
to those who have done you wrong
that destroyed your life?
I can’t feel your emotions through words,
so paint me a picture.

Are the trees dead and broken
to show the inevitable of life
or is it a sign that nature
will take us to a better place?
Are the moon and stars placed bright on the canvas
to be our wonders of the world
and to show that we can learn and see
in the dark?
I don’t know your beliefs,
so paint me a picture.

The detail you place on the fabric
of color, of age, of fortune, of status,
are those there to be essence
of richness or poor?
I can’t see what you know,
so paint me a picture.

The buildings that are destroyed and crumbled to dust,
do they tell a story of war and poverty
or is it showing how one feels
when they are abandoned?
The stained glass windows of the Lamb of God.
Why are they shattered and graffitied upon?
Was there a religious revolution
or was it deemed to be a lost cause?
I don’t know what happened,
so paint me a picture.

What’s the place with suited people in orange as they stand behind a table
with a black robed lady pounding a gable on a high bench?
Why do they cry as chains are pulled off?
Were they supposed to have done something wrong?
I don’t know what justice is,
so paint me a picture.

These lines and figures you filled on the cloth,
I don’t understand as they are like hieroglyphics
or word of ancient man
who described lands that are filled with love and glory?
Are the symbols above the people that once roamed the lands
guide them to salvation or to perhaps please the Gods they once worshipped?
I never learned history,
so paint me a picture.

The weather that is presented
is it the climate that deceives us believe in one season
or does it show what others haven’t experienced?
Does the green grass popping through pockets of snow
show a rebirth in the season that thrives
or is it a sign to show that cold weather is on it’s way
with winds that howl through naked trees?
I never saw weather of the seasons,
so paint me a picture.

The mountains that reach for the sky
and the tops disappearing in the clouds,
does it show how far we can succeed
or is that a limitation of how far we can go?
The deep ocean water as you show a heavy blue,
is that a sign that we shall not explore
as the unknown is our greatest threat?
Show me how much of a risk taker you are,
so paint me a picture.

A land that doesn’t seem like this.
Why have buildings that reach far and high
Colored silver and black to show high moderness?
The dark clouds and land that is ravaged and scathed,
with large creatures that hunt each other.
Is that how life was or will be someday?
I never seen what the world was or will be,
so paint me a picture.

What is a dragon doing in there
with a knight shielding himself from fire that is expelled?
Why an astronaut on a flat surface looking at an alien-like creature?
This strange odyssey that you have is baffling me.
I never seen or heard your imagination or have walked in your mind,
so paint me a picture.

Why have a cartoon based around a world leader?
Is it a comic or is it propaganda for an election?
Why a hand being held up, an elephant, a hammer and sickle?
I don’t know political regimes,
so paint me a picture.

How come there are hands that are touching fingertips on a park bench
as they look in each other's eyes?
Is it that they are in love and show it by reaching hand to hand
or could it be a last goodbye
as they let go of a possibility of what could be?
I don’t know what love is,
so paint me a picture.

Why does a young child cry in the hands of a mother?
The baby swaddled in white drapes as it’s eyes are small and shut,
and the mother is laying in bed with young, watch with elation?
An old man sitting in bed with tubes and a machine surrounding him.
Why have him take short breaths to live through the lifeless night
when the sun could set one last time in his eyes?
I don’t know your values on life,
so paint me a picture.

There is so much I won't know about you through words
if we only meet one time and never hear each other again.
Pick up a brush, grab a water bucket and colors and be next to the easle and empty canvas.
I don’t know your values, your beliefs, your ideas, your religion, your political ideals, your passions, your imagination, your world, your love, your life,
or who you are...

So paint me a picture.

Author Notes: Please rank and comment on this poem or musing or both (whatever you want to think of it as). Much Love. Keep on Rockin'!

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