A Beautiful Gift
The Painting of Life
My eyes flicked shut and I could no longer decipher the simple, yet intricate shapes that seemed to blend in the going of the world or the flow of time. Blindly I began to draw, engulfed by sweeping darkness and wrapped in the dark gown of everlasting shadow, each stroke being perfectly measured.
Color after color, I poured my very soul into the picture, which was both cheerful and dull, pleasant and harsh, just like the elaborate creation of a person’s character. Despite the fact that sight couldn’t help me, the familiarity of a wooden brush in hand and paints staining the canvas to my liking washed away all uncertainty, all dubiety. It was like weaving and entwining separate threads into the finest form of lacework and as I did it, my heart sang.
I let my broad imagination wonder and glimpsed the most beautiful worlds and places - rills and trickling streams rushing down rock and among jagged stones; lights twining on clear, black water; thatched wooden cottages nestled in the deep folds of hills and gentle valleys. Everything had an impact on my painting, almost shaping the masterpiece.
Here at last my gift showed up, and with the last brush came the last breath. The piece was finished and so was my life.
How did it look? The drawing symbolized the struggles and joy of each life - it can only be done when that life is at an end, as otherwise the painting continues into eternity. All you need is a gift to produce your own work of art.
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