My Canvas

I think the story of how this one came to be is pretty awesome. It was in my 9th grade Civics class, which would put it spring of 2004. We had a free day or something like that, but what I remember is that it was bugging me that the white board was so blank. So I spent the classtime writing this, line by line, on the board. I think this is the original one, too. I don’t remember making any edits on it. It was before the time that I enjoyed editing.

My canvas is blank

Blank as the snow of the field

Blank as the expanse of the sea’s surface

Blank as the look on the students’ faces

Each is empty, as is mine,

void as any of these

But each is not blank

As you look, each starts to live

The mice, moles, flowers, deer of the field

The whales, fishes, plankton of the sea

The nerves, cells of students’ faces

So this thing starts to awake

It starts to breathe

It starts to move

It starts to live

This thing starts to have its own

Action, activity come to it

It starts to teem, it starts to walk

It starts to walk away from the arm

I helped it up and gave support with

Now it starts to run

It is teeming, it is breathing

It is moving, it is living

Now it is full

Full as the field in nature

Full as the sea in the summer

Full as the students’ face in wonder

It is running, it is moving

It is playing, it is dancing

It moves on its own now,

It needs me not

Where I began it,

It finishes itself

It finds more of its own kind and,

as I watch,

I smile and think of the time that we mingled

As two friends but as one in the same

It is mine, I am its

I am it, it is me

And then I smile

Because my canvas is full