My Garden
I can’t actually paint. Just a metaphor. Seemed a good idea at the time…
The world exists.
It is around me.
No choice.
The Good and Bad,
The Right and Wrong,
The Fair and Unfair,
Irreversibly interwoven,
To make the canvass on which we must paint ourselves.
This is my canvass.
No choice.
If I try to unweave it,
Separate it,
It will collapse all around me.
If I try to slash it,
Shred it,
I destroy only my portrait,
Myself.
I may control only my own brush strokes,
And the picture they create
And so the world exists.
It is around me.
I make it my Sunlit Garden,
Or my Prison.
This is my choice.
Luke Downes
Those last three lines ring as true as anything I’ve ever been told about life.
Have you seen The Visitor?
Rebekah Anderson replied
No, I haven’t heard of it. Should I see it?
Luke Downes
oh, yeah. absolutely. to me, it’s about a man who realizes just that.
Rebekah Anderson replied
Sounds good. Might just investigate. Thanks!
ShadowDancer
love the idea you evoke here, it’s so true, and you wrote it so vividly.
Rebekah Anderson replied
Thanks so much Miss! Glad to have you back online, by the way :-)
LeaLoo
This is nice. Canvases are really helpful.
Rebekah Anderson replied
Thanks!