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I decide to capture the world of my eye
Set up my supplies, poised brush ready
As the strokes go, the world I see
doesn't seem to be what I paint
Instead I see a blue wave of halls
Memories sparked unconsciously
Again I begin, this time determined
Yet again, the end does not match outside
Every time, the scenery doesn't change
But the eye of the brush sweeps along
a different picture in mind
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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna
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