We listen to the stories of old,
With hopes of brighter future.
Nay to the naysayers and the outcomes of past,
Believing this moment in history.
Whatever the day brings forth,
There is a tranquil spot awaiting our presence.
The pictures before us,
Gone with a stroke of our genius.
Whatever color of choice,
It is our creation awaiting our undivided attention.
Swipe, Swoosh, Splat,
The final touch awaits.
It is time,
Time to paint the masterpiece.
Stepping into the Canvas with a Master’s brush. The Canvas behind appears nothing like the one which lay before us. It whispers, screams for our attention…do we listen? or return back to the day in and day out? Stepping into the Canvas with a Master’s Brush…Creating and re-creating our reality to the way we see it to be…Ani Po
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