The Blank Page

The Blank Page                                 3-7-2012

 

Troubled I face the blank page, my palette yearning to be filled.  The very emptiness a barrier.  For I must fill not with colors of water’s pigment or brush marks in oil, but with letters linked carefully…words.  Times when mind driven, the words come quickly riding the passion of thoughts clear.  Other times slowly they flow as the feelings must grow…mature…clarity not yet fully realized.  The words themselves adding to the life and the concepts.  Too often the words escape from the dark places where pain hides.  Places of past hurts and future fears.  Those words better saved for another page…that blankness would soon disappear as letters tripping and stumbling race for light and life.  Now I face the blank page wishing to cover with words of puppy dogs and sunny afternoons…of joys and victories…of laughter and best times.  Lifting myself, not easily done, yet a task worthy.  The beginning most difficult, courage and determination required.    Having something to say would make the page grow smaller.  But what value can I share on this blank page.  What bit of sunshine, have I to give…taught perhaps by life’s professors…which may brighten another.  I face a blank page…and wonder.  Out of the fog a single word forms, a title perhaps…but more…an idea.  One line complete…others will follow.  Soon fingers knead language as the idea springs forth with its own life.  The lines, brother after brother, march downward, the blankness slowly replaced.  Words, the seeds, shape a notion as slowly it grows.  Finished, not certain of satisfaction.  It will for others to determine whether what is finished is better than just another blank page.

 

(271 Words)