Beautiful is the Canvas as it was in the beginning and till daylight no longer flickers. Depending the foot which starts our day, changes perception and reality within.
Our first thought carries a tune, with following steps either in dissonance or perfect harmony of the original score.
The morning of our lives filled with great experience, comes to a halt in Great Mystery as to what the afternoon may hold.
Mistakes, trauma, not-so-good events all before noon. Our day broken, praying to just get through. Broken is the Canvas as we sort through the rubble. Acceptance, forgiveness or battle through…or all of the above?
Broken is the Canvas as most flawed Canvases before. Our inner Canvas scattered across an inner room of consciousness. We choose. We step. Hesitantly carried forward by a flicker of hope.
Forgiveness of afflictions, transgressors, even worse than last. Lest not forgot self.
Acceptance for Broken Canvas, scattered across the floor. Space, cracks between the pieces. Filled, bound by Spirit.
Broken is the Canvas in its simplest form. Beautiful is the Canvas at greater view.