ENVIRONMENTAL Poem: Blue Brush Strokes, by Talya Langer

I think I finally understand why people paint the world they see.
I think I finally understand why writers write,
why poets rhyme,
and why preachers preach to those who pray.
I think I finally understand why the hurt turn to the healers,
and why the healed never turn back.

It is faith.
It is hope.
It is about finding beauty in the world around me.

Admiring the sun and the sky,
the sand and the sea,
I appreciate the way the current increases in intensity,
as if it has tales worth telling under the glistening stars.
With sandy feet and soggy hair,
wrapped in towels and waiting to be transported
to a kingdom where seashells crown the shore,
where the tide writes letters in foamy script,
and sunlight spills like liquid gold upon the sand.
The mountain of water conveys myths and sagas
that would shock ancient scribes and Greek mythologists alike.
I want to paint a picture that shows the way the sand makes time drift slow,
how the sea silences worries and provides music for the soul,
and how the shells remind me of the beauty of the ocean.

I want to capture the way sunsets hold memories,
the colors preserving events of years past,
and show how the waves encapsulate time.
The sand hides the truth,
while the sky shows endless possibilities.

I finally understand why people paint the earth meeting the endless sky,
or the way the sun smiles down on those who lounge.

If only I could paint the laughter that drifts as lightly as the breeze.
If only a painting could capture everything.

If only.