the pure joy watching
slowly, painfully staring
at a painting breathe to life
watching every stroke
every layered undertone
to speak with
a thousand syllables
the frothy white seas,
I can almost taste
the salt in the breeze,
the cloudy heavy sky
I can almost feel
the chill of shoreline ice
it's almost like
reading book
or writing  poem,
using that jewel
of imagination
to fuel
my own redemption