Who Paints Upon the Wind

I look down on the clouds below me
from this jet plane in the sky
as we chase the glowing sunset
across the magic night
tangerines and indigos
and hues I can't explain
who is this artist
who never signs his name

I look back on the life behind me
from this vantage point in time
how I've chased away the ones I've loved
how they've vanished from my sight
But I can touch this morning's
golden leaves and silver dew
forget the past as easily as this moment

If I were Michelangelo
I'd paint you up the scene
If I were Ferlinghetti
well I'd dream you up the dream
funny how most beauty goes unnoticed

I listen to the sounds around me
hear the bow on a violin
hear the bustling of the city streets
the laugh of the innocent
the harsh roar of the angry
and the proud voice of the wren
who is this artist
who paints upon the wind

If I were Michelangelo
I'd paint you up the scene
If I were Ferlinghetti
well I'd dream you up the dream
funny how most beauty goes
funny how most beauty goes
funny how most beauty goes
unnoticed.


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