Blank Page

The daunting blank page
holds an invitation to create.
It embodies endless possibilities.
It gives space to the words that
Have been longing for a place
To escape their home in my mind.
It beckons the paintbrush
That lingers in the air to let go of perfection
And follow the vibrant colors where they lead.
The white sheet whispers, “Transform me.”

I’m that paper, forever being shaped and reformed.
I may just see the blink, blink, blinking of the cursor
Demanding to be filled with something, anything
As my hands hover over the keyboard.
Sometimes, the colors of my mind are
The steel gray of a rainy, wind-swept day.
The promise of life is that it will change
And bright colors and words will emerge.
In their own time. Patience, my dear.