Paint Me Blue

A god paints 

The sky with his blood, blue,

Standing on a ladder. 

His eyes reflecting the sun.

Twinkling.

He is a little boy 

Who does not know

The lightenings.

He is still in his shorts.

May he lives a thousand years,

The sky wishes.

May he still breathes

Kindness in the hearts 

Of people,

When a recently discovered 

Storm blanks his eyes

For a moment.

May he never fall 

Down the ladder,

May the ladder

Never fall down.

It is not a promise. 

It is not hope.

It is a yearning

For something

Which has been lost childhood?

We were all children once,

And we were all standing

On a ladder painting 

The blue sky blue,

Once more.

Paint the blue sky blue -

We want to do that again.

We want to pick up pebbles

And put them in pots.

We want to rhyme

With the world.

Red a little red.

Green a little green.

Blue a little blue.

Only the sky was blue then.

Today,

The only thing blue

Is our pain. Why?

Can you hold

The ladder from the bottom 

So that I walk up

And start putting a few

White clouds in the blue sky?

And then paint it blue?

Can you give me my

Paintbrushes back, the ones

Which I had painted 

Your face blue with?

When I didn't know 

How to hold a brush?

Do I know today 

How to hold a brush?