Master Artist

They speak to me–
The silent setting sun
The crashing, roaring waves
The deepening royal purple of
The jutting, rocky island which rises up from the sea.

They speak to me–
The yellows, pinks, oranges,
And all the in-between hues of the setting sun;
Light becomes color
But their voice is one,
One Voice speaking peace
To the weary heart that
Sees through my eyes
And hears through my ears.

This Voice speaks peace–
Peace through the silent, setting sun.
It gently whispers peace
Through the crashing, violent waves.
The sea gulls listen in silent wonder
To this gentle Voice of Majesty,
This Voice of Beauty
That can only come from the hand
Of the Master Artist.

With a motion of His hand
He blends the colors,
Fluid, moving colors,
The somber darkness with
The radiant colors of light.
With a nod of His head,
A sweep of His shining eyes,
His heart pours forth beauty;
His Voice speaks forth majestic beauty–
The unequaled blend of
Crashing waves with silence,
The fresh, pure scent of ocean salt,
The feel of the spray, wet but warm,
And of the wind, powerful and free,
The contrast of colors,
Dark and light.
They speak to me
But their Voice is One,
The Voice of the Master Artist–
He paints for me
His perfect heart
Of justice, peace, and love.

Painting by Chrystal Jackson