Sketch a Scream

Sketch a Scream

We all have our silent screams and
Perhaps our voices being insufficient,
We seek out canvasses to paint on;
Some of us find them,
some of us don’t.
This is mine.

What about?
There is so much to paint,
But there be not enough colours.
Still I sketch and sketch,
Hoping that one day there will be colours
Enough to fill that canvas
Before I am called
From this Emptiness to the Next
Which is His.

What then?
This Journey doesn’t end.
It continues, so they say;
So they tell me, it says.
In the Book, I’m told that
Truth resides there.
But I tell you —
Truth is.
That is Ours.

It’s in your heart,
It’s in mine;
It’s in the Soul,
This Journey.
Thus is Mine.

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