I Am Forgiven

I imagine the bare canvas before me,
Void of color, void of expression,
Waiting for thoughts to bloom
Onto its inkless palette.
I close my eyes, open my heart,
Inviting each stroke of brush
And the endless possibilities
Of a pen held by every word's carress,
Spilling ink of differing hues.
I compose a song of the soul
And paint a memory.
I am forgiven the flaws
That spill, the drip of words
Without a place, the thoughts
With no color, and the portrait
That only I will recognize..
I forgive myself for fragmented
Sentences and for neglecting
The words that need to be spoken.
With every stroke of brush I define
Myself and I am content with
This artwork that comes to life...
The artwork felt within my heart.