A Canvas …

What would you do with a canvas,
a brush, and colours?

What could you bring to a table set blank
with paints, and space to make your mark,
to leave your print.

I have a feeling He’s given us permission
to pick the paints,
and the colours that reflect us.

I know he’s given us a place no-one else has.
Has established our borders
to protect what we need to flourish.

Yes, what would you do if you believed,
the colours were yours to choose,
the place yours to claim.

You might just spread up as high as out.
Reach that little bit,
like the Eifel Tower.

Or you might turn in and write,
words that in their singular state
nudge the world when they connect.

Or you might express
your expansive heart,
with colours wild and free.

And when you look at what you’ve made
might hold your breath,
and say, ‘This? This, is me?’

So, take your brilliant gift,
dance, and draw,
and create with it.

Because I don’t think the table
is set in concrete.
Rather, it’s a moveable feast.

And please don’t say,
things can never change.
when we all hold the canvas and pen.

Ask yourself,
what would you do with a canvas,
a brush, and colours?

Then paint yourself
the colours you’d be.

Ana Lisa de Jong (original post: Living Tree Poetry)

See Also:


2 thoughts on “A Canvas …”

  1. The March 21 posting presents with
    Oops! That page can’t be found.
    Thank you for each and every one of your postings.

    1. Thanks for letting me know Anne. Something appeared to go awry with is particular post. I had a comment on Facebook as well. I’m glad you were able to find the correct page. Unfortunately once the emails go out, I am not able to change the link. Grateful for your support and kind comment. Blessings to you …

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