Blank Canvas

I hate those people who always know exactly what to do

Who plan and schematize their lives

And pay for everything in installments

Or maybe I just envy them, I don’t know

For now I live my life like I’m holding a brush

On a blank canvas, colors waiting in the tray

I don’t know what will come of it,

I just mix the colors and shapes and take a step back

I stand there, watch the set,

Staring, not knowing how to go forward,

But I always start again

Because I know eventually something magical will happen

Even when the line is shaky and the edges are wrong

I keep painting over the fear,

Layer by layer, until the picture begins to breathe

There’s no outline, no finished plan

Just instinct and the weight of the brush in my hand

I walk away, come back, lean in closer

Blur the mistakes so they look like something new

I trust the mess, I trust the blur of color on skin

And I trust the silence between the strokes

Where the shape of my life slowly starts to show

Not perfect, but true

Because I know eventually something magical will happen

Even when the line is shaky and the edges are wrong

I keep painting over the fear,

Layer by layer, until the picture begins to breathe

Maybe those people are safe and secure

With their plans and their schedules,

But I’d rather be standing here

In front of an uncertain canvas,

Heart beating too loud, hands shaking,

Knowing that any wrong stroke

Could still turn into something beautiful in the end

Because I know eventually something magical will happen

Even when the line is shaky and the edges are wrong

I keep painting over the fear,

Layer by layer, until the picture begins to breathe

I don’t know what will come of it,

But I’ll keep moving the brush

Across this blank canvas called life,

Waiting for the moment

When the colors finally fall

Exactly where they’re supposed to.