Creation

liquid shades erratically dripping
from the stretched canvas of an empty sky
above in the clouds his brush is slipping
tumbling fast, drinking solace dry

soaked up by jaws hunger, a plague of its own
infecting the earth, life forming from death
a clearly chaotic colorful cyclone
stumbles out of its every breath
 
it continues to recklessly invade
then stops, shyly glancing over its shoulder
bliss embraced it, smiling unafraid
mountains, oceans, and stars in a smolder

you asked how it happened and I told you hush
for this all was just the slip of a brush