Crimson Creator

One bough, brought to crimson
though still late summer.
One arm of red, reaching for angels
to awaken, nudge, bedazzle.
"Look around, fair one, behold!
Whether you sleep or stir, the seasons move.
A swirling creation, set in motion in a word,
spoken into being in a breath.
It was good, it is good, but you,
you are
very good.
See me? I'm in red today.