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
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