The clouds soft stillness,
The beauty of streaking sunsets,
The gentle dawn of the sun's beginning,
And from the raindrops of it's tears...

The greatest artist...
Lies beyond our reach,
impossible to see,
Yet, we see few of his wondrous works.
From the smallest dew drop to largest mountain
Where clouds begin to circle it's peak at the brink of heaven.

Us humans..
Don't ever realize the mastery in his brush strokes.
Nor the colors he uses with his watercolors.
This world..
Is but a canvas laid out before him.
Every Time his canvas shows something blank,
Missing.
Something out of place.

As his great eyes lay upon a vast canvas,
He witnesses little mistakes.
Little mistakes he can't bear to see.
However, that's what makes a painting a masterpiece.
The little mistakes of consumed chaos,
Makes this painting court emotions to it's viewer.
Whether those emotions are of:
Anguish,
Happiness,
Violence,
or even a feeling of regret and longing.
It brings them to tears.
Wishing that they're world was as perfect as God's paintings.

Will we ever be as perfect as he imagined?
When will we ever be worthy of another of his brush strokes again?
Since the days of creation,
since the days of the forbidden fruit,

I wanted to see God's brush strokes again.
To witness something beautiful, that used to be out of reach.