To Paint a Story

It is time that I begin
To paint the story of my life;
Half the years gone now-
I whisper that I must leave something behind.

My story begins in love,
And it will end in sadness.
But beyond that sadness will be rejoice,
and the understanding of a man's soul.

So I will use the most delicate brushes,
And the finest paints,
And canvas made from glory itself

And for the colors-

I will begin with the blue
Of my first lover's eyes-
Blended with thunderstorm.

Next a shade of my first child,
Safely asleep in his crib;
Accented with a dash of red love
For my first wife;
With a spatter of all our passion
Dashed tastefully across it all.

There will be the color of my first car,
Mixed with gasoline smell-
And the hue of youthful sex
That can only be seen in the dark.

Along the top of the painting;
One single brush stroke for every poem read,
Or book that spoke timelessly to me,
Or rock and roll songs danced.

But with wide and broad brushes,
I will have strokes of larger
More infinite colors-
For these are the sweeping swaths
From which my life is done.

At first a green from all of nature
Setting the background, for she is timeless.
A green so pure it is drawn from every leaf,
Every butterfly wing,
And even the harsh stone.

Then a huge dash of color!
Right in the middle;
Done in the laughter with my friends,
But outlined in pain-
For they cannot stay forever,
And one day I too, will be gone.

And then the vivid color of loss,
Which is always blended
With the intensity of love.
Along the edges;
A true black bornt from every tear shed;
Whether for or by me-
This black will be drawn from lonely midnights,
From the hurt I have caused those who love me.
And the deepest shades from the days and months
After the loss of my best friend,
Mixed with the death of my parents.
Some of it will come from the death
Of a few hopes and dreams and
The end of a couple great loves
After vulgar arguments.

But this deep black loss will be surrounded
By the most brilliant color of all-

It will be bordered in the very gold of Heaven;
Made from new babies crying,
A first kiss,
The thoughts of poets,
And the very smile of creation.

And here the painted story of my life will end,
And begin,
And begin again.

And with no regrets or sadness anymore,
The painted story of my life will contain
The very essence of all life
And a gentle understanding of my own soul.

Learn more about this author, Austin Brown.
Click here to send author comments or questions.

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