What an Artist Gives

She started with the whitest sheet,
Epitome of incomplete.

So her words began to drip,
Complexion with it also slipped.

Human intensity,
Splashed the page in empathy.

Jumbled pinks with browns to shade.
Blues of descending hues arrayed.

It leached all, left her gray,
As hid behind the curtain fay.

Work complete, feeling weak,
Departing, finding empty streets.

She walked alone beneath the sky,
Breathing in as time let fly.

As the sunset kissed her face,
Flush across her cheeks raced.

So God filled his empty vessel,
Leaving heart with sparks to wrestle.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

8 thoughts on “What an Artist Gives

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