Blank is the Canvas

Albeit the Mind

Blank is the canvas, silent and wide,
A field of tile where dreams may glide.
No grout, no gleam, no tale begun —
Just echoes under morning sun.

But oh, the mind! A tempest swells,
With whispered myths and renovation spells.
It stirs with fire, with aching grace,
A thousand plans in one small space.

The hammer falls, a comet’s flight,
To break the old, to birth the light.
Each crack a pulse, each shard a cry,
Of futures drawn beneath the sky.

From chaos thought, a form takes shape —
A mirror framed in marble drape,
A sink that sings in silver rain,
A shower blooming out of pain.

Blank was the canvas, pure and still,
But not the soul — it drank its fill.
And now behold: a space unchained,
A sanctuary, passion-stained.

Blank is the canvas;
the mind,
a storm waiting to rebuild.

~Ani Po

This past year has been a whirlwind! I’ve been focusing on continued healing, tending to my father, and taking on another remodeling project.
I often find these remodels, allegory or metaphor to myself — as if remodeling oneself. Similar to remodeling, the Alchemists would deduce that the result was them all along. 

So, I move forward at a slower pace, but with greater reward, as both Mrs. and I take on this challenge.

When the master bath is completed, pics will follow.

Much gratitude to those who take the time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of themselves to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash