Golden embers from a shiny cloak,

And wispy white hair of light.

Leaning into my ear she spoke,

“Little girl please paint the night.”

Over and over I brushed,

From dusk to dawn.

Neither did I complain or rush

No matter if I began to yawn.

I stood by her side,

As she painted the clouds.

The paint began to subside

And she told me a vow.

“Little girl I’ve grown old,

My life will not be forever.”

In my hands I would soon hold,

In which I will hold it wherever.

I watched her wispy hair,

As she walked towards the light.

In which she painted up in the air,

And encountered her flight.

The walkway began to close,

And rain swallowed the sky.

My hands had froze,

It was hard to say goodbye.

Soon I remember she was still with me,

Hiding behind the clouds up high.

I knew she was finally free,

From painting the morning sky.

When she left I took her place,

And began to ask why.

But when I looked up at the empty space,

I remembered she told me to paint the sky.