Painter Of The Skies Poem by Catherine Habbie

There is an invisible painter
Who resides in the skies
He gets out his magic brush
And loosens the ties
He paints a stroke
And steps back to see
The lovely colours
Spread in the breeze
The wind is his friend
As is the Sun
Together they paint like one
The sky is his canvas
And they are his paints
He shades them up in colours faint

The Sun comes up
And catches each hue
Revealing a palette
For me and you
Brightyellows
And shocking pinks
In vain I try to find the link
But he is hidden
In the mighty labyrinth
Hidden he tries
And make each colour sink
The canvas is wide
And he has his brush
He has all day there is no rush

In the afternoon
He goes for a snooze
The sun is too bright
Every shade out of sight
But by evening
The magic begins
Out comes the painter
With his palette
Colours filled to the brim
He splashes the sky again
Purples and blues
Of myraid hues
He has his fun
In the setting Sun

He doesn't stop there no
There is more left to the show
He has some sparkles
For the night
Quickly he places them
Hidden from sight
As it gets darker
They are revealed
Twinkling stars to be seen to be believed
Soon he lets out a yawn
His work is complete
The day is done
Out he will come again
With the morning Sun