The painter

The painter stands

with brush in hand

and with her thought and feeling,

her feeling and her thought.


She begins the tentative strokes

of oil on canvas,

knowing where she wants to go,

but never predicting

where she will finally end up.


She sketches and she plans,

but the thought and the feeling,

the feeling and the thought,

have there own alchemy,

and the brush will go

and the hand will move

where they will.


For the painter comes

to the painting,

and the painting comes

to the painter,

in thought and feeling,

in feeling and in thought.