the morning canvas

December 17, 2008
More by this author
the morning sky is my blank canvas,
i paint it first with tears.
a gentle white saturated with the sweet sadness of sleep.

and then...

a drop of bright gold as i wake,
a many-faceted gem shines amber life into my skin and i breathe it in.

dark blue swirls and are my first breath, and i feel it in my lungs,
warm and comforting.

yellow bleeds across the white as i smile to my morning canvas.
a sunshine hello i love you.

the sun gives life to my green-leafed calm,
the lush garden lies tranquil, an oasis in my my mind.

chocolate brown spreads swiftly now.
the depth, the gravity: reality.

i exhale and bow my head.

my heart bursts into life with angry veins of bloodred.
they burn like fire my canvas, the inflammation of my heart.
red for wrath, for lust greed pride envy gluttony sloth.
my canvas drips blood and tears as i gasp with pain.

deep purple seeps slowly through as my brain takes control,
numbing the burn, but leaving a dull ache behind.

then black.
black for the young day,
black for hope,
black for my corrupted heart,
and black for my lost soul.

my canvas is finished, but the day has just begun.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback