I noticed a Large canvas upon the north wall, white as a blizzard does blow
Its amazing brush strokes are but a feather in the snow, light and gentle
My eyes did but blink twice in hopes to channel my sight to the focus point
Clearly to focus within a crystal where time has stood still, just for me...
A river of white satin flows from one end to the other; back and forth strokes
Chantilly-Lace and a Widow's woven curtain ropes holding the rise of the tides
A river's rage foamed in a rolling tide of white; splash the falling snowflakes
An Archangel in the grandest of regalia, like the Phoenix rises white in flight
Time is the essences, vanity, but a Shooting Star away; how high the Phoenix
Explosive is the Winter of Temptations, cradled in the arms of an Archangel
This canvas blinds me with its pristine whiteness, it has cleansed my soul
Emotions circle billowing clouds that I now must stand at the mouth of the river
Hopeless dreams fashioned like a carpet of Snow Geese, still, quiet and motionless
Painted stroke for stroke a Mighty Tundra covered in the whitest of white fleece
Glory on High, the Archangel radiantly descends from a winter's blissful white-out
Surrounded in crystalline twinkling stars and glitter kisses of falling snowflakes
The Archangel lies amongst the soft white downy fleece of a thousand snow geese
At the river's edge their wings opened in reference to create a gentle breeze
Sweet white Lotus blossoms and Star Lilies grace his flesh, a virgins holy pledge
Upon the river's rage heartfelt secrets no longer matter, the Archangel slumbers
Lastly, the artist painted a forest of white trees, pleasingly white to the sight
A living maze of branches entwining over the Archangel cuddling anew Phoenix chick
Shooting stars dance in a blizzard of snow, slowly falling, blanketing everything
There is such a mystic around "A Canvas of White", Could it be a "Dorian Gray?"
Let' Pray, NOT!
by Richard Lee Cook
Copyright 2011
An SILVERFEATHER Creation
