…where deep calls to deep… ( Psalm 42:8)
Two children flank their mother.
They kneel in a tangle of knees
as if they’ve just dashed through woods
to land on piles of crackling leaves,
ocher and burnt sienna.
Her face is obscure, her embrace,
loose, so they’re free
to lean away laughing.
I choose this photo to work with
from those she sent.
There’s a cobalt river as backdrop
and frank autumn light
to accent cheeks, brows and hair.
The girl grins, angles away.
The boy nestles near his mother’s ribs
but grips a rope.
The painting is for grandparents, miles away,
who long for them.
I set down a thin wash of ink,
sketch grasses, trees and limbs.
Soon I’m feathering quick strokes
of rose, lemon, cerulean blue,
Everything flows, deep to deep.
What is my brush pouring out?
Watercolor by the poet
