An empty canvas calls to me
as if her voice is all I hear, as I gaze upon this white stretched canvas with drops of muddy water on her surface.

I can't help but notice the stains, her true form not yet seen, knowing she is present somewhere on those muddy drops and stretched white cloth.

The paint pallet pressing my wonderment, each color waits to be employed, as I eagerly begin with patience few could understand.


"Which colors shall I use and how does she wish to be?"

Bewildered by a million colors, knowing I must be true ... her desires are all I ask for, understanding that it is her I am painting and not for me to choose...

and she calls to me in a voice unheard by ear... Calling to me as if she is all I hear...

She calls to me silently, my eye not yet graced, she calls to me, silently, with her voice whispering to me without words ... silently whispering...

Create me
Create me
Create me

"As you wish"

© J.P Belt