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Friday, June 25, 2010

Painting my Own Canvas



You tell me who I can love
And who I’m supposed to hate
Then you say you love me,
Too little too late.

You paint a picture
With hope for just a few
Then you live your life pretending
The rules don’t apply to you.

I want my own canvas
I want to paint my own truth
Is it too much to ask?
I’ve been begging since my youth.

You say our bond is personal
You encourage me to pray
Yet when he speaks to me softly
You jump in the way.

Get away from my canvas
I don’t want you in the scene
Alone he is so beautiful
I don’t intend to sound so mean.

But you tried to take him away from me
As if he was yours to give
Why can’t you just step away
And let me live as I want to live?

I not a simple heathen
I’m not out to break his heart
I grew up in church, like you,
We both had the same honest start.

Do you think I wanted to be different?
To forsake all I had loved?
 Did I look up the heavens in defiance
And say “fuck you” to the One above?

Could you stop to consider
For one moment, for just one day
That maybe God the Artist
Created me this way.

Then handed me his brush
And stepped off to my side
And said “let me see your world as you see it,
Let me along for the ride.”

Then I stepped to the canvas
His brush firmly in my grasp
And I painted a little puppy
Playing in the grass..

His smile so full of mischief
His eyes so full of love,
And watching from a treetop
A gentle, holy dove.

Looking at our portrait
With an artist’s interpretive eye,
“Well done,” God said with understanding
And a deep contented sigh.

“Today you’ve painted your canvas,
And made the angry voices cease,
Blended the colors of your faith
And turned your rage into my peace.” 


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