Pencil, charcoal in my hand,
Help me sketch unheard of lands.
A woman’s laughter, a baby’s tears
Bring forth from my hand all the world’s hopes and fears.
This story I tell, which burns like flame on a grill from within
Inside this box made of inexpensive tin.
Come forth and touch hearts made of stone,
For this is my art I share with you and you alone.
So enter into dangers untold, and watch as images on paper unfold.
This is a talent that God has given so my gratitude to He and His son who is risen.
Ease yourself into my world and you will see hope and beauty lie within both you and me.
Love you. Mean it.