As I watched the sunrise this morning,
I couldn’t help but feel...something
Like a spiritual appendectomy
Of the most curious kind
I saw the brush strokes in the clouds
Formed by a God that most people see
And never believe
And I briefly wonder why they won’t
But it's much too late to consider
As the scene is already changed.
The Sun’s rays are breaking
The peaceful chaos of those clouds
I ponder for a moment, for a moment is all I have,
What it would be like to be the painter of this
This sunrise seen by thousands of eyes
But noticed by few
I wonder what it would be like
To have my greatest works on display
Daily for all the people to see
And have only a handful take a moment to stop and stare
Would I, the imperfect human that I am,
Would I be angry at the millions,
Those who refuse to acknowledge my brilliance?
Or would I be grateful for the few?