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