Opening

Brush moving, off leash

Colors flowing like small rivers

In a warm downpour 

The rush of it thundering softly

Behind velvet curtain 

Concealing what might become of me

Were I with abandon to let go

Exposed to the full production

Flowing on the other side 

Away from the dry safe 

Place of gentle observation

Where understanding is delivered

As if the rush of it might carry me

Along the flood of something 

I might never return from

Along a mighty river spilling

Into an ocean where undrowned 

I might emerge transformed

Bursting into a place where color

And emotion are unbounded

Swirling in feverish mix

The curtain undulates 

Impatiently anticipating

An opening...