You will know that my creativity is flowing when you find paintbrushes lining my window sill,
they've found a permanent home there,
between painting,
between creating,
after washing,
Never pressing or rushing or begging for use. Sitting quietly instead, they lie in wait.
Rendered mute until placed in the right hands.
Then as they dance in a pallet of colors a song is created,
one that is seen rather than heard,
a song of joy or of sorrow,
expressing happiness or pain.
I am nothing without these tiny tools of expression...
In your house this could be considered clutter,
something unsavory to the eye,
but when I see them I sigh.
A sigh of contentment,
of completion...
Let my home never be without paintbrushes on the window sill.




















