My Next Life
I will paint houses
for a living.
I will dip my brush
in a quiet field
beside a stream,
and work
from the roots
of my imagining.
I will paint
not as houses are,
but as they
will someday be,
families sitting
at starlight tables,
friends passing
through misty doors,
neighbors smiling
in lemon sun,
sharing the harvest
of wonder�s toil.
When day is done,
I will walk alone
in painted hills
above the town
and find a place
to sleep.
I will lay me down
in cradle deep
of silken leaves
and feathered miles,
then paint a dream
of newborn song.
When I wake
beneath
night�s melted bough,
my next life
will be the road
I�m on.
June 17, 2005
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Also by William Michaelian
POETRY
Winter Poems
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
52 pages. Paper.
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Another Song I Know
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
80 pages. Paper.
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