We arise each day,
There before us is the canvas,
The blank canvas of the new day.
It sits there waiting,
Waiting for the colours,
The colours of our spirit
To sit before it and paint,
Paint the new day,
The new day in our life.
Life is an artwork
And each day we paint,
Paint a new canvas of the day.
When we go to sleep
That new canvas is completed,
Completed for that day in our life.
As we sleep through each night
A new canvas will be there,
There for us in the morning
And another new artwork,
Another new artwork will be waiting,
Waiting for another days art.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 20th, 2024 01:05
- Comment from author about the poem: Each day is different so we have so many artworks in our lives.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments5
Good write Gold.
Thanks Orchi.
What a lovely thought to think of each new day as a fresh canvas waiting to be lived. At the end of a bad day, we can always hope that the morrow will be better. Enjoyed your posted music as much as your words. Thank you Andy. Have a beautiful day.
Most kind Cassie, I hope that you too have wonderful days.
Andy
I spend the night touching up what I painted that day. A poignant write Gold and may you have an endless supply of canvass'
Thank you soren, yes the end of each day I too touch up the painting while listening to music.
Andy
Making new memories, lovely dear Andy. 🌹
Every6 day those new memories are there Teddy.
Andy
Every day a masterpiece in the making. Great write Andy. 😊👍
So true AP.thank you.
Andy
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