by Robert L. Martin
Beauty of your transitory effervescence,
Your haste to move out into new patterns,
Your colors ever changing with the seasons,
Your greening into browning into graying,
Scenic colors in rhythm with the roving spirit,
Dancing along the canvas as their poetic rites,
Defining art as an invigorating renaissance,
Climbing into the senses with soft feet
And massaging the heart with silky fingers.
Mother Nature, you are a true artist.
You move with the spirit of effervescence.
You mount your steed and race with the sun.
You tame the beasts and rescue the lifeless.
Your rivers flow into the heart of life.
You move across the sky and paint the sunset,
Then flaunt yourself in view of the Blessed.
You change the seasons with your magic.
You breathe life into the slumbering meadows.
You restore the gray with a vibrant green.
You convert the greens into reds and yellows.
You kiss the flowers adieu
With your penitent lips,
You bring autumn out from its cool shell,
And bring it out for all to gaze upon.
Yes Mother Nature,
You are beauty on the move,
A painter with a romantic eye.
Picture by Bill Abbott