In the West
A pink sunset behind purple mountains
A blue cross the perfect accent.
Lights dart and dash in the fog.
How great an Artist is our God.
In the East.
Over cast grey,
like old dingy jeans
the moon half hidden
but still he sheens,
light hearted shadows over streets.
Straight to the North
Cement walls and some palms.
Photogenic yet never captured.
To the South.
I don't know
I wont look back
How great an Artist is our God, to paint so vibrant a picture as this
yet filled with such contrast to this bliss.
Pink Purple Blue
Opposed by so dingy a grey.
But I'd still rather be no where
but surrounded by this fog.
Because I'm on this canvas
Painted by out GOD.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem