I watched the sun
with its wings of gold
paint the tops
of the drying hills
so that every grass
was left in an orangy hue.
\I knew then
what it was
to pull out from within
the will to create.
\For once to listen
to the shouting of my self
telling me
to paint my life
red.
\No longer hesitating
to take that sudden stroke
and make my world
like sun.

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