When I Draw
Isabel Kembel
As my pencil paints a picture
my paper is a portal
peering into a paradise--
A world of peace immortal
Because even when I’m drawing
drawing in black and in white
the colors begin to swirl ‘round
as I reach out to hold them tight
But even when I catch them
they find a way
to snatch away
Something part of me
But if they stay
their soft presence,
as thin as a feather
soft but never breaking
and I’ll be there waiting--
waiting to try again
But wait
Why do I draw--
spending my time here
sitting
No,
it's because
Who I Am is not perfection
It's the chance to become something more It's
the sound of the ocean inside a shell, stored,
and that whisper of a fairy inside my core, and
that dream of flying besides the birds, never
fleeing without sight of
much, much more