Out my window I watched snow smoothing out the landscape, gently making soft, humanities edges, brushing on an open canvas where all possibilities existed. A blank slate created in front of my eyes calling me to create any dream, to bring forth a new Genesis. It was dazzling to witness angels on bent knees spreading creations surface at my feet, then bowing as my mind rushed by in excitement in wonder.
I let my imagination rush head long into the white powder, adding color, texture and emotion to the pure and receptive canvas, its crystalline structure growing and compacting all at the same time. I would create shapes that would self erase as snow continued to fall. Worlds came and went as my visions manipulated my fingers into kaleidoscopes of creation. Kingdoms fell and utopias came crashing into orange dawn down the nascent birth canal that was me.
Like a continual cosmic rebirth the canvas shouted over and over to me, “dive in be bold anything your heart desires you can assemble within about on, me.” It was an enticing siren call but I knew, I knew how false this picture was because the only thing I wanted was out of my reach, not available to me even with God’s own canvas guiding my hands, I still could not make you, mine.