Blank Canvas

A large empty canvas stood in the center of the bare room

Paint brushes, pigments scattered across the cold floor

In the middle of it all, I lay on the hard tiles, Staring at the ceiling with cardinal red splattered wide

The sky beyond was sprayed with a thick layer of celestials...

My naked hand flew up to reach out for a hint of a cosmos past the crimson tide

Did I hope to trace your features with my finger?

Sometimes I feel freezing tendrils sprouting from under the solid carpet

They seem to coil around my body in heavy blankets

I shiver coldly and silvery drops melt down the sides of my face into my hair

At times I am afraid to blink, what if, just what if, I blink and you disappear...

Would matchsticks really keep the lids from closing?

If the eyes are open, would my eyes remain focused?

Vigilance...I must skin my eyes , so the next time I don't miss you

Canvas beckons for my attention but I can't peel my gaze from the ethereal

What if....just what if my prayers are answered?

My arm is worn out from fighting the earth, how long can I hold it up...

There will be a break in the clouds, a tear in the roof, a split in the ground

Either I fly to heavens, or get buried deep within the mantle

Once before the climax, the fingertips in Creation of Adam, just like so, mine and yours, barely touching

Is all I need to pick up these derelict tools and put them onto their canvas...