A Canvas Yet Alive

I found this in an old document. I wrote it this past summer right after a magnificent thunder/lightening storm.




A blank canvas starts the night; covering all shadows and hiding the rest. Then your skies shoot light forth through the darkness, it demonstrates your joy. Even in the darkest of storms… your light marvels me.

It strikes un-patterned and at a surprising pace. For as long as you give me breath to breathe… I will choose to wonder. To wonder at your finger paintings of glowing brightness against dark open ended canvases. You swipe new glories for me with unique strokes and intricate dabs of chosen color.

What is a picture without a melody? You sing loud harsh sounds to accompany the dark canvas. Notes that are thick with heavy harmonies. Some fear you, for they recognize not the gentleness of your greatness. I see through you, to you. I see that each glistening shimmer represents a note so similar. It is to the ear just as it is to the eye.

This is the show that you put on for me. A show of joyful expressions.