The world's a living portrait
And it does not stand still
It just keeps on growing
Around the valley and hill

Not at all like a painting
But very much alive
Billowing energy bursting forth
And in exhaustible supply

Every place you see it
It's very much alive
From the lowest forest floor
To the very highest skies

It is moving in the apple
That soon will be a tree
And soon the leaves of green
A golden blanket will be

In time the mountains
Change their places
Because they are
Always moving

In some new valley
We are told
Another place
For growing

As I write these very lines
The grass grows around my toes
Another motion but oh so slow
Are toes with nails that grow

I wish I could paint a portrait
Living like my creator
The part that I accomplish best
Is the part of growing older

Wayne Anthony Sturgeon