The Beauty Of A Blank Page

Oh, beautiful, clean white page,
my eyes do gaze upon thee
envisioning hopes, dreams and goals.
Ahead… possibility.
Oh, page before me,
pregnant you seem, with my longings and thoughts 
which yet,
 remain unseen.
Clean as a slate,
fresh as the dawn-
my pen dares to write upon you new songs.
Soon you will be soiled with smears, stains and smudges,
as my mind falls in step,
following-
 where my imagination trudges.
In the future I see,
a hope scratched here,
a dream sketched there;
a prayer, a praise, a confession of fear.
Beautiful, white, pristine-
yes.
But, beautiful still,
as you progress.
Soon a written on,
tattered, hope-filled tree.
Transformed- at once
to that which will be.
Before my eyes,
the story unfolds-
of the truths long ago, 
once foretold…
A page in time, will be well worn 
this stark white page where
visions and dreams long to be born, 
and truth remains.
Where once upon a time,
a solitary tree-
Sacrificed,
as now the blank, white page 
that lays before me. 
©Dawn Paoletta

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