Paint

Down inside is where the truth lies deep.
  Not out here where vision lies.
So much to entertain us and fill our hungry eyes.
All the nonsense.  All this noise.
When silence begs us come.
    I cannot harm.
      I am your home.
        I am your seed.
          I am your root.
How long were you deep
    and darkly in the womb?
What noise was there to trouble you?
  What was it you saw?
You moved and churned inside her,
  first a cell and then a heartbeat.
An emotion was your first thought.
  Your first paint brush set.
And you've been painting day and night.
  Broad strokes.  Fine detail.
Is this the painting you meant?
  Are the birds a brilliant color?
    Are the trees tall?
      Is the mouse inside a cat?
Did you turn your brushes over to someone else?
  Grandma cannot paint this.
    Daddy's vision is all wrong.
Go fix your eyes, adjust the light.
  Finish the painted world.