I was never the type
of child that obeyed
much  of anything;
not even the many
times  I was told
not to stare into
the evening sun
when I felt
alone.

When winds at night on windows roar
wax runs out dies candle's flame
you would hear a knock upon door
a familiar voice calling your name.

Don't respond nor open the eyes
the voice is keen over winds' howl
grows it louder its pitches rise
scaring even the brave barn owl.

Pull the blanket up your head
you are safe so long you hide
lie dead quiet not move on bed
with mom asleep by your side.

Between the pause your fears mount
if is a chance to be found out
one two three the calls you count
but count it right leave no doubt.

Three times the voice would call your name
for it has no power to do any more
but move onto where dies a candle's flame
and a child is awake behind closed door.

Until yesterday
I was
unaware.
Blind.
Un-conscious
to the
power of choices
that rested within me.
All my tools and colors
were chosen by others
and
were handed over to me.
That was until yesterday !

Today is a different day !
For today I choose
the landscape
the background
the scheme of colors
the medium
the strokes of my brush.

I choose them all
to paint on the new
canvas I get handed in
each day
with consciousness and
in full awareness.

And every once in a while
I like to
pause,
stand away from it all
and
take pride
in what's shaping up to be
a Masterpiece -
the very purpose
for which the Master
created me.

Living a long and happy life
May bring us, a good feeling
But, it’s what we’ve done with it
That really, gives it meaning
WIZDUMBs BY JA 7