At times, more often then I might like, I find my mind wandering. To where I do not know. Shades of muted violets, greys and black. All along my path, the insidious obstacles of life seem to hurl themselves at me. I wander past these blocks of depression and fight my way back to the top of my life. Everyday brings another sunrise, hours of daylight, more wandering and finally, at night's first glimpse, the God given strength in knowing I have conquered yet another day. These are the times of greatness.
We all face demons in life. To think otherwise would be foolish. How we go about battling the perils is up to us. I'd like to see my world as a canvas. Stark white paper, stretched across an artist's easel, waiting for brush strokes from the owner. Wide sweeping strokes of color. Colors too vibrant to imagine as they hurt the eye to even look.
My canvas has the brilliant shades of spring. Spring, with its rebirth of all life - runs like a deep, blue river through my soul. Brush strokes of violet, regal royal purple, with a dash of striking yellow, on tender blooms of tiny flowers. Green pokes it head through the remnants of winter's snow, and once again, my spirit is suddenly struck with the warmth of renewal and the eternal hope of yet another season blessed.
This is the hope for joy.