A canvas of grid marks.

An incomplete work of art.

Watered down paint brushes against the rough surface of the paper.

One more stroke.

Just one more stroke.

 

An image begins to appear.

A mirror of my life.

Transforming nothingness to something.

My hand is guided.

I am not alone.

 

A blank spot.

A tremorred smudge.

Green, then red, then blue.

A disconnected array of half-images, half-complete.

The creeping progress begins to cloud my hope.

 

My head bows.

My hands clasp.

My eyes close.

My mind focuses on Him.

Remember, the transformation.

 

A rush of peace.

My vision searches past the clouds to the Son’s brightest rays.

A drop of light amidst the gloom.

Eternal perspective.

Remember, the transformation.

 

I am not a complete work of art.

Others may not appreciate my growing definition and soft hues.

They may disregard my potential at the slightest glance.

The pain from their apathetic glances is erased by my knowledge.

I am becoming a masterpiece.