Paintbrush

You may think, you don’t know me! 
But, I know do know you … as, I give you oxygen 
I used my heart as the paint brush 
I am the canvas and the painter 

I see all God’s colors 
As, He took the brush 
He used His heart as a paint brush 
He left nothing uncolored …

The naked trees…
As gets shaken, all naked 
All dancing with the winds 
All sing alleluias for someone to hear 

They appeared far but, near 
All dear trees to Him 
He feeds them sun 
He provides waters

They all grow tall …
It’s existence to provide oxygen 
There’s no different one’s 
Which my favorite? 

Perhaps, maple
It can feed us 
Pancakes in the morning 
IHOP, come hungry leave happy?

Not, really … I prefer, my home sweet home 
Where, I can repeat a beat 
Listen to my heartbeats …
It’s best in my home as my fireplace is all lit 

Am, not sad …
But, glad that make prints 
As started with a blank one 
It took a new direction 

Where the paper’s my boss
My pen … Now, my God 
My hand takes controls 
Images comes to life of my soul that grows 

I see all those trees all lined up standing still 
… in Connecticut headed to Martha’s Vineyard 
They do not talk back 
But, if they did 

What would, it states? Would they say?
“Am tired of being looked and poked
Please give me room to release CO2
Look, I may be naked in the winter

But, whom are you to critique?
Give me room/space
Don’t race me mad 
Just wrapped me with love!”

Next time …
You see a tree
Bend your knees
In it, is God!”

With these messages and my tree voices 
I like …
To conclude 
My chlorophyll gives breathes 

“Don’t crack jokes, please 
Placed not, empty can beers
Leave a note, instead
Thanking me … why, I give you breathes 

Note, I love you
Without discrimination nor hesitations
With endless shapes and colors 
I ask, to be love back …

Those winds, bathes
Gives peace of mind 
Endless love …
God lives, here! 

All my trees’ leaves 
Slowly leaving
The sun, warms
My torso, tree trunks stays with me.”

Yes, they all do
It’s God, that lives here 
It’s God
Yes, it is God: Know that 

Minerva A. Garcia, your Poet 

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