Our life is like a canvas
Of which we cannot see
A painting made from many strokes
Applied so dexterously
An undercoat of childhood
A middle coat of youth
An upper coat of adult life
Wherein we search for truth
But like an artist’s canvas
It bears its own due time
To applicate a layer
And make it most sublime
Should attention swiftly wander
And a portion be forgot
Then the consequential brush strokes
Will not permeate that spot
Each life’s layer holds importance
In its own essential place
Once laid down and covered over
It is quite hard to erase
Still with care and due attention
(For this part needs a keen eye)
One can wipe away old brush strokes
And deftly re-apply
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Comments
That's a deep and inspiring poem.^_^
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True intelligence operates silently. Stillness is where creativity and solutions to problems are found. Its your restlessness that causes chaos.
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Walnuts, peanuts, pineapple smells. Grapes, melons, oranges, and coconut shells.
Beautiful metaphor. And magnificent poem.
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I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody. ~ Bill Cosby
The last verse is something to be remembered.
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A blue feather floats down from above...
Go, stand in the sun. It is brighter than your monitor.
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And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)
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