When the Quiet Comes

Je Me Replie V

How Long!

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A life painted without knowing, seasons adding their colours, faces leaving their shade, until the day the picture clears and you see that was never about what you built for yourself, but what you could pass on, a skill, a love, a legacy, a kindness  to someone else: it wasn’t status or wealth, but the gold you’d grown in others that mattered.
By the end, your life’s picture was a gift being crafted for another all along.

The great artist of this story was you all along, even if you don't see it at the time. :)

Lyrics: 

[Verse 1 the blank canvas]
First breath laid on a canvas bare,
Colours asleep in the waiting air.
Brush of the wind, stroke of the rain,
Lines drawn soft, then cut by pain.

[Verse 2 the shaping years]
Winter carves shadows, summer spills gold,
Edges get sharper as the story unfolds.
Faces and places blur in the frame,
Each leaving a shade, but none with a name.

[Chorus]
Every mark, every hue,
Every scene the seasons drew,
Every line you never knew,
Was painting the place that would open to you.

[Verse 3]
In the quiet, the picture clears,
A lifetime layered in joy and tears.
A hand steps back, the truth in view,
The art was never for keeping by you.

[Bridge]
It wasn’t the crown. It wasn’t the throne,
Not the gold you held, but the gold you’d grown.
A canvas passed, still wet with hue 
Signed at the end, but painted for you.

[Final Chorus]
Every mark, every hue,
Every scene the seasons drew,
Every line you never knew 
Was the gift you were shaping to give them too.

[Outro ]
And in the corner, small but true,
Picasso’s hand… looks a lot like you.







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[Dendritedisco] [2025]. All rights reserved. Unauthorized use prohibited.


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