The Painter

He must have had a wonderful dream
To paint such a dawning light
Of pastel pinks and soft jeweled greens
Glowing up from out of the night.

I felt I must have been driving to Heaven
On that cold, snowy winter morning.
But, even as daylight washed out His creation,
I knew I'd remember that glory.

Whether pastel or vibrance, I cannot recall,
It all just seared into my soul,
Like a gift painted out just for me and my car,
On that lonely commuter road.