Starting off with an idea
while staring at blank
A pencil goes to work
It gets rough outlines
A brush that is color touched
dances around the canvas
The brush transforms
as the cavas evolves
Excited to see it finished
The birth of new colors
that people have never seen
Floods the cavas giving it
eternal life
Tells a story that has no
words
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem