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.
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