The Paintbrush

Lord, where are you taking me today?
On the tip of my paintbrush?
On a cloud up in the sky…. with that bird so high,
Into that tree where a squirrel shakes the leaves…
Across the flowing Severn, sands and rivulets…
Amongst the Sanderling running on the shore in the gaze of a motionless heron…

Michael Butler

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