An Empty Canvus

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    An Empty Canvus

     

     

        My life, until the moment I saw you, was nothing more than an empty canvas that was without beauty color or sound.  I could see only in black and white that spread through the dark void in which was the world around me.  I was blinded by the many years passed filled with heartache and loneliness.  Held down by the rusty chains of a hateful time through which there was no key.  I could hear the soft laughter of bliss from those whom had found their soul mate, their life partner.  Yet, there I stood, alone in my own prison with little hope of ever finding what my heart yearned for.  To find the one person that would make my heart stop and beat at the same time.  The hope to find you was slowly slipping from my thoughts.  Why should I have to wait for the artist to paint my life, to fill the blindness of my eyes with what once was a vivid dream of you?  I began to believe the only way I would see you was through closed eyes.  Yet, even still, I waited.  If it was to be that I see you only in dream then my prayers were to be in these words.

        As I close my eyes tonight I ask that I not wake up, that I remain in dream.  For this is the only perfect, happy place I know, because it is here that she exist.  Where I no longer have to wonder if her hand fits into mine because we walk hand in hand everyday, a place in which I will never be alone to watch the rising of the morning sun or the going down of the same; because she will be sitting next to me seeing as I see.  Though she has never known why I love such a sight I have yet to tell her it is her presence making everything beautiful a thousand times over.  This is a place where I wake up to the soft sounds of her breathing instead of the lonely beats of my own heart.  Where I can open my eyes, spread my arms around the warmth of her body instead of finding the place which she should lay still cold from the chill of the night’s breeze.  My eyes are tired of trying to hide the tears that already flood the place where I lay.  Father, please keep me in this dream through which I have found my soul mate, my life partner.  It is only here in this place that I am complete.  I have lost faith in the real world because she is not there.  Amen.

        Yet, it was not to be that I stay in dream.  The heavenly father would not answer these words that I prayed every night for so many nights because he knew I would wake up one morning and find my life painted.  The artist made his first subtle stroke of his brush while I slept.  I would open my eyes to the sound of two hearts beating instead of one because you lay next to me.  He knew his first stroke would be his last for the reason I found only to be true, that you were his masterpiece, a finish to a beginning he started when he created the heavens and the earth.  God has always been the artist through which this world was painted, the passer of fate and destiny to the unexpected lives of many.  It was he who opened my eyes to you.  Only to be blinded by all the beauty and color I would see in you.  The rusty chains that once so heavily bound me were finally broken.  All those years of heartache in a world without you had come to an end.  I knew the moment I saw you my life was just beginning, that I had not been living until then.  When first I looked into your eyes the thought that god rested on the seventh day of creation were no more, because I now knew that it was then he created you.

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    Charlie23 commented on An Empty Canvus

    01-30-2010

    This is an amazing writing? You must be published!

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    billygunns’s Poems (6)

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    An Empty Canvus 1
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