Work Of Art
The light of the moon paints pictures across the moving surface.
Floating above the salty water marking the masterpiece with its title.
Disappearing with each rough wave then magically returning to me.
Showing the past and present, memories and futures of each day.
Stars sparkling down adding the final touches to the work of art.
Returning in the morn I find the canvas clear without a hint of mess.
Sun shining reflecting the late nights work that will come soon.
Crashing against the cliff with such force it sounds of a cannon.
Tearing away at the rocks ripping it into an uneven patteren.
Erroding down to the core of its soul to find the rich earth within.
Sculpture of the past century and the beginning of something before.
Jagged edges ready to cut, slit the ground of sorrow.
Pitter patter of the mist spraying their crevasses wanting to decorate lavishly.
Night falling all goes quiet waves calming down gently waiting for the new day.
Blessed art of mind, body and soul takes over natures canvas.
Starting ones art, only to have to begin again, have all washed away.
Each day filled with hard work but the rising sun makes it worth while for the cliffs.
As the sun down excites the nights artistic ability that expresses itself in certain forms.
Unique describes this art of nature but words go on past the beauty into another language.
Creations gone and when all else fails the heavens make each day count.
Begin a new piece it will, this one greater than before.
~Back~
