Painting Loss with a Pen

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Painting Loss with a Pen

I’ve traded my pen for a paintbrush,

Cashed in this ink for the splash of acrylic,

Words have not been enough,

Enough to contain the winter,

The writer,

Growth is change,

And with change I’ve grown,

Or is a regression to colours and glue just that?

An infant at the canvas,

Muddy feet and messy finger tips,

We’ve been playing in the sand again,

Running through grassy fields,

In our mind the air is sharp,

Sharp and wake-making,

We’re still dizzy,

Dizzy on dharma and dreams,

Adulthood with the sprinkles of youth,

Youth! That thing which begot this blog,

We’re still us,

Still slipping through mud,

Whilst sliding through rainbows,

Words still capture

Well…

Sometimes,

We’re happy to let this mess stay,

Change!

These unrhymed lines,

These twists,

Turns,

Abrupt endings.

 

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