I see her chasing the clouds,
Stretching hands in bounds,
Towards the skyward’s reign,
Begging for a gain,
For time to reveal its bears,
To attain the glory of awaited years.
I see her chasing pavements,
Through the dark’s testaments,
Panting in an unreformed pain,
For the breath to feign,
Awaiting for the hums to evade,
And the beloved morning to pervade.
I see her slither to the dew,
As it promised the few,
For the arrival,
To the jovial,
Towards the sun and chirping daylight,
For the life to begin in its right.
P.S. I precisely couldn't explain my painting and still cannot.
The poetry is in another continuum of My Painting.