I was there.
I saw the mountains standing
tall and barren
snow-tipped heights against the azure sky.
I saw them.
I saw the river twining
blue and silver
dashing down the slope in headlong plunge.
I saw it.
I saw the trees waiting
tall and fertile
thronged with life and tinged with green.
I saw them.
I also saw the man
who sat there all the day with pigments,
pad and brush. I saw him take water from the river.
I watched him paint.
And when I saw his finished work...
...the landscape spoke.
Author notes
Written March 25th, 2006
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