PS 98

An empty canvas
I am expected to fill
So I write these words

These words pass my lips
Fill the streets with Thanksgiving 
A joy resounding

Anteing The Page 
How might there be a wager 
When Nothing Remains?

These are days Foretold 
We're watching The Starry Night
They say "Stay the same."

What if we cannot?
In what way will rebirth move?
Where the faucet turns?

Every word costs some
Now it is counted elsewhere
The beautiful place

So I remain still
Locked away the flashing lights
Training when to move

The Moment is now
We have returned to its truth
Refusing the lie

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