Sitting on tiny legs on tinier chairs
colors in hand and nothingness ahead
fingers trace pure(mind's eye)
Just lag in solace;the stairs are far and high

Sitting at angles: squares or rectangles
ink on feather tips to stain the canvas
or create;it’s not the choice of feathers
Just acquaint the time;the hills roll and plummet

Sitting linear supported by confidence
educated with space and swirls
eyes are widerdeeper;don’t look ahead
Just aspire of effort;mountains grow and sing

Sitting bent:inflicted by moments
realization of the finally of finale
stones only scratch;boulders consume
Just seize the embrace;the lines are smooth