One brush stroke
Striking against the contrast of a plain white canvas
You have one stroke to find your voice
To ask your questions and figure out whom you’re meant to be
The strokes become erratic as you ask your questions not sure where you are going and confused on what life has to offer
They seem to have no meaning, no purpose, but each one so thought out you never even realize their significance
But soon they blend into swirls of pinks and golds, an endless sunset across the expansion of your life
You find the touches of others as they flow seamlessly into your creation
And find that your world is a canvas, your life the portrait wrapping around the lives and people you’ve connected with