The nonexistent paint brush moves across the canvas.

It starts with small seed. A walnut seed.

Day by day. Little change. But there is change.

The sprout grows and is green.

Our lives are compared to a canvas.

It starts out blank and pure.

Soon the canvas has noticeable colors.

Some of which are dark and other are light.

That canvas will change and will take a longtime to finish.

As our little plant grows it will soon realize that it is a tree.

A beautiful tree, full of life and love.

Around this tree, there are many colors.

Some of which are dark and other are light.

The colors explain and document the journey of this tree.

Our canvas is not just painted on by ourselves,

but by others. Friend come and go,

some leave smeared and stained on colors,

others are held on to, are valued and dear.

As if they were jewels.

As the tree makes it way up to the sky,

the journey is a long one.

Through the cold winters or the warm summers

the tree is left with the memories.

These memories leave love marks, or scars.

some of them are wounds and left disfigurement.

Either one is still left, for the tree to live in or forget

As we the trees stand tall in our canvas

we may look down.

But we must keep in mind

that we were once down on the ground

on our journey up.

Our lives will go on, and we may wither.

but remember the scars,

don't forget them.

They will guide you and show you how not to live.

But most of all. Remember the treasured times.

Always remember the love marks. The jewels.

They are the eternal guide for love.

They will lead you up.

High above the clouds.

Look down, but go up.

The markings of a colorless girl.




Sarah Janelle.