The Canvas

 

There is a composition unlike any other
in perfect harmony
that only its artist could create,
without duplication,
stipulation,
colored to perfection.
This is the canvas of my soul,
in hues of purple and pink,
with hints of mint and greens
splashed to run against the light.
There is a sanctuary
upon the curves and lengths of its frame,
so full of imagery,
of love,
of a silent language spoken from the heart.
There is an arrangement of places,
among the horizon
that landscape the shapes,
shades,
mosaic of my thoughts.
There are feelings covering its values
and depth painted in the chromatic of truth
proportionally expressing all there is.
And, somewhere in its tones
there is undeniably the casting of faith
grasping to the atmosphere swimming
in a composition of integrity and serenity.
This is the canvas of my spirit,
with all its illustration,
a Renaissance of antiquities,
that lies deeply only in me
while the Creator watches
and smiles at His one-and-only masterpiece.

You, the Creator

reflectionThere is nothing wrong with admitting
that at times

this is much to endure
and you must fall on your knees

to let it out,

in a sigh or a cry

because being alone is part of our existence.

 

All the materialism,

collection of people,

obsessions and addictions

cannot replace

or mend

that space you have

opened to Spirit –

the awed-nature awareness

that says, “Hello, look at me,”

 when you feel deserted or forsaken.

 

Allow it. Surrender.

You are not alone. 

This journey is existential in nature

and its path is lighted by sacredness. 


Sometimes the ache is profound and it comes
deep from Greatness
while you say, “Let it go. Make it go away.”

Beg, plead and negotiate.
It does no justice to that space,

to the ache from beyond.
The heart knows nothing of negotiations;
it is driven by vastness and endless forces.

Tell me what drives this alienation to such intensity.
Let me hold you and help you in your need.
You don’t need to be alone–
you are not alone.

I may be able to hold your hand,

make you smile,

and when I leave

the emptiness will visit again

until you don’t feel its desperate claws.

You will sit with it and love it

as you reach the beauty in yourself.

I cannot fix this.  You don’t need anyone

to try and mend the process of your rhythm.

This ache and withdrawal goes unnoticed by others
but it is there peaking,

poking, projecting and protruding
until it surfaces again and again.

Don’t question your faith.

Question what You need to learn from it.

Then again
don’t question a thing.
Let it subside on its own.
Be aware of any pain,

control,

the illusion of separation

and dive into the wisdom it creates.
Be thankful for it
because it means
that you are alive.

It means you are never alone.

It means…

you are the one…

the only…

creation.