Lifes Paint

The canvas there was empty Life’s paint was in the bowl The future was before me But I couldn’t foresee my role. Events engulfed my being Time-stamped as they passed Life began to assimilate As Life’s Paint was there amassed The level rose slowly As the bowl began to fill The Events Brush dipped in Painting its’ own free will. Dark hues show a tragedy Bright ones: Joy displayed Spread upon my canvas My Life’s Paints there parlayed. I gaze now at my canvas And know as I look back In this Life, the final brushstroke Is always painted … black.