11/10/2025
This morning, I slipped into a quiet realm of blues and greens.
The world is still half-dreaming, and so am I.
Breathing in, I dip my brush into water so clear it could be melted stars.
Breathing out, I watch color awaken —
unfurling like spellwork, blooming into shimmering fractals
that dance across the page.
The pigments whisper old stories,
rivers remembering their journeys, leaves recalling their first sunlight.
The water hums a blessing beneath my fingertips,
and the air tastes new, tender, full of possibility.
This is the ceremony of daybreak —
a soft enchantment where paint becomes prayer
and I become the witness of small miracles.
