The Canvas

All my time is spent pressed against a canvas,
Painting a vision I'm too close to behold
And in the end, when Light finally tempers,
I drop my brush, take an unsteady step back,

Canvas glows revealing the mastery of a lifetime's work
And perhaps she's too obscure or unfinished,
Or maybe she envelops too great an extravagance of color,
Before I'm able to sign possession,
I awaken in a lit room, clean brush in hand,
Facing a blank canvas once more

I have no recollection of self,
I have no desires,
Joy with Despair are withdrawn from me

Once more compelled to my canvas
Once more she awaits design

Time is spent, brush is dropped, and she glows once more
Nothing once more
Always once more

Bits & Pieces

Oh, Life